


Outside-In

by DarkSakura



Series: Tales of Erafen ( Dragon Age ) [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age A/U, F/M, M/M, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-08 07:35:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 44
Words: 90,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3200858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkSakura/pseuds/DarkSakura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If all of the potential Inquisitors were there at the Conclave, what might have happened had others survived? Erafen Lavellan survived the explosion at the Conclave (by conveniently not being in the building) only to find herself now distrusted by strangers with no means of escape and too great a sense of responsibility to let herself leave when given the freedom to.</p><p>This spawned from a what-if about a Lavellan that did not become Inquisitor.</p><p>(This work is mostly focused on her, though there are relationships growing, mostly Cullen/Inquisitor and Dorian/Iron Bull.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ar'u

_Hahren_ ,

The Herald of Andraste isn't a figure from the legends. She doesn't match the carefully designed features of the statues in Val Royeaux. She looks like nothing from a Chantry painting. She is thick and curvy, like many  _shemlen_  nobles, her face round with welcome eyes. Her nose is a bit hooked, only a bit, and her eyes are a little small. Her hair is black as onyx and braided tightly into some ridiculous series of knots at the back of her head. Despite things many  _shemlen_  may consider imperfections, the package together is attractive, if not a classic beauty, and her perseverance and bravery are what led to my decision to stay.

I understand you sent me to the Conclave to learn what the humans would decide. This war affects us all; there are elves involved, members of their circles and though  _seth'lin_ , thin-blooded as some call them, they are still  _el'lin_ , our blood. They consider me an apostate, but I would stay and watch out for the interests of our kind. If this path leads to  _din'an_ , then so be it. I always questioned too much, poked too many holes in our oral traditions. Please train my younger sister in my stead. I relinquish my position as First.

I fear I am alone on this path.

 _Dareth atisha_ ,

Erafen Lavellan

\----

 _Da'len_ ,

I fear for you, as I feared when I sent you to the Conclave. Your decision to stay is brave, and I will respect it. Please see to it that you send word often by raven, one of the clan's birds. I would know more of this "Herald" and her role, as well as those she keeps close to her. It is the will of our gods that you were not in her place, that you also were not there when so many others died. Indeed, I feared the worst and am relieved to see that you live.

I will do as you request and train Eradahl in your stead. Yes, you questioned, but without challenges, how shall the people grow? Many were uncomfortable with your ideas, including myself, but perhaps this is your chance to learn. Never forget, however, where you came from. Continue as you are. I will do as you say, and pray that the  _shemlen_  treat you well and with respect. Remember our love with with you, and you will never be alone. 

 _Ir abelas_ ,

Keeper Deshanna Istimaethoriel Lavellan


	2. Dirth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this while having beers, so if I have typos, I will fix them when sober. Also, Solas.

Winter was never one of Erafen’s favorite seasons. In truth, she didn’t really have a favorite season as long as the weather wasn’t terribly extreme. Not too hot, not too cold, but enough of each temperature to let her know it was a different time of year, and she would be happy. Haven, as it turned out, was cold. Very cold. Cold as... cold. What surprised her, however, is that the receptions by those living there wasn’t as cold as she expected.

She’d found an unlikely friendship with a former Dalish named Minaeve, the two bonding over their thirst for knowledge and love of study. This relationship led to Erafen making her second friend at Haven: their Ambassador, Josephine Montilyet, who often asked many questions about Dalish society, mostly protocol and customs. Erafen took the chance to learn some of the customs of humans in return, especially those surrounding social politeness and blending in.

“No no, the silverware is inside to the outside,” Josephine said. “So if you attend a State dinner, you will… oh, Inquisitor!”

Erafen resisted the urge to snort at the thought of a Dalish elf attending so important an event. With her sun-ruddied skin and bright red braids, she would definitely stand out, even in the fancy dress of The Game. Instead, she turned her attention to the door as the Inquisitor, Miryam Trevelyan all but hid behind the door as she entered.

The Inquisitor was curvy, but in the way of one used to exercise and discipline in addition to the comforts of her class. Her face seemed a little small and round with a slight overbite. and her eyes were soft and kind. She wasn’t much taller than Erafen herself, who was actually shorter than her youngest sister. The Inquisitor, she once thought, was almost the same height as Eradahl.

“Maker’s Breath,” the woman muttered, pinching her nose. “I almost miss the Ostwick Circle! Oh! I didn’t realize you had company, Josephine.”

“I can go,” Erafen offered, standing from their makeshift dinner table.

“Please allow me to introduce you first,” Josephine said. “Lady Trevelyan, this is Mistress Erafen of the Dalish Clan Lavellan. Mistress Lavellan, this is Lady Miryam Eleanora Trevelyan.”

“Ah, so you must be the reason Josie has been so successful lately in brokering trade with some of the Dalish,” Miryam said, at once smiling broadly at the elf. “Please, stay. I may have a job for you.”

Erafen did as she was told, listening with interest as Miryam went into detail about the Carta Dwarf who’d been discovered trying to gather information on the Inquisition, a Qunari mercenary insisting on pay for the loss of his people at the Conclave, and now a new mystery: the old temple found in a far Orlesian oasis and the shards somehow connected to it.

“And you being here might make things far easier. I will be sending out some of the people I’ve gathered to travel with me and work on behalf of the Inquisition. I’d be most grateful if you would act as my Aide,” Miryam said.   “You don’t know me,” Erafen said, shock on her features.

“Josephine trusts you; that’s good enough for me,” Miryam said. “But let us make this an even bargain, as I will quite likely ask a lot of you. Elven artifacts and any books of study will be made available to you, if you can pry them out of Solas' hands, and we will see to the well-being of your clan."

Erafen blinked hard, considering it, and she nodded. “I will. Thank you.”

“So as my Aide, would you please talk to the Qunari captain for me? Just get a clear answer on his terms and bring it to me later,” Miryam said, almost sheepish.

“No worries, my lady, I’ll see to it. I’m not afraid of big horny Qunari,” Erafen said with a wink.

Miryam laughed openly, abandoning the manners of her station in private. “Finish your luncheon first! 'Horny', indeed!”

  “Ah, but you should join us,” Josephine said, clearly proud of her impromptu protege. “There is plenty for the three of us, and you can assist me in teaching Erafen.”

——

“Kaaras Adaar was our best man,” the Valo-kas representative lamented drunkenly. “So much promise, but noooooo, the Conclave… arse-ploded!”

“Heheheh ‘arse’,” Erafen slurred, acting more drunk than she truly was. Whatever the Qunari put in their drinks, she was having very little of it. “But… but y’know, if he was that honorable,” she continued, rolling the pronounced R of her Dalish accent for effect, “he’d-a stayed through t’the end, yeah?”

“I suppose so,” the Qunari said. “Allright, I’ll talk to the boss. Get ‘er to talk down compensation to the original contract amount. Tell your Inquisitor we *hic* will honor it.”

“Glad t’hear. Flissa, another round for our guest?” Erafen signaled with her mug, sloshing some of the bitter brown liquid around.

Over the course of the evening, Erafen learned a few choice Qunari curse words, begged off the advances of the hulking mercenary representative, showed off a few dances, and then blended into the background, observing and making sure things didn’t get more entertaining than they were.

“Masterfully done,” a soft voice said from the side, and Erafen found herself looking up into the amused eyes of a slender bald elf. “You’ve grown from the skittishness I observed in you when first you moved across from my temporary home.”

"You're usually abed at this hour," Erafen noted. "The lights in your home are dimmed by now."

"And observant as well," the elf said with amusement. "There was quite a commotion coming from the tavern. I was curious. And though we are neighbors, I have not introduced myself. I am Solas."

"The Inquisitor mentioned I'd have to fight you for artifacts and books. My name is Erafen," Erafen said impishly, trying to be friendly. All of her life, however, she'd been taught to distrust an unmarked elf, but something of this one's manner told her he wasn't like the City Elves. Her gut told her his blood was far thicker. Surely his manner wasn't cowed and miserable like those unfortunate souls in the alienages.

"Erafen. The name is one I'd expect of a Dreamer," Solas commented.

"They thought my mother was. She had visions, but she could not walk the Fade. She was... haunted," Erafen said, and paused, not wanting to reveal more. "She dreamed of wolves when she carried me, and trees when she carried my sister, Eradahl."

"And do you carry her same gift of vision?" Solas inquired, looking down curiously.

"I only know when I am dreaming, when I see the Fade and when I see my own mind," she replied. "I understand you are something of an expert."

Solas laughed at that. "I suppose I am. I have spent much time in the Fade, studying it and learning from it. I have befriended spirits, seen the memories of ancient battles, and learned of civilizations long forgotten."

"Then surely you've seen what the Dalish have lost."

"I have. And they rejected what I had to show them."

"Pity." Erafen sighed.

Solas was silent for a moment. "Walk with me, _Da'len_."

The two left unnoticed, exiting into the crisp chill of Haven's night. Solas led the way, heading towards the main gates, but he turned to the side down a long stretch leading out towards the bridge connected to the mountain path.

"All right, we're away from the prying _shemlen_ ," Erafen said. "You had something to say privately, I assume?"

"You asked about what the Dalish have lost. The Dalish remember fragments of fragments, but that is more than most. I did seek to share what I knew, but they turned me away. You show a curiosity I have not seen among your kind. You were sent here because your Keeper did not know what to do with you," Solas stated plainly.

Erafen bit her lip, angered, but she swallowed it down quickly along with her wounded pride. "That... isn't false. I questioned. If you know these things, _Ha'hren_ , please teach me if you have lost knowledge!"

"You risk being turned away as I was," came the reply.

"Knowledge is all I have wanted. My questioning mind made me perfect to spy on the Conclave. Now that I am here, I know... I know I cannot return to where I was," she retorted, feeling stricken at having said it aloud. "I can't go back."  
  
Solas was quiet, thoughtful. "If you have accepted it, then I will teach you what I know. For now, I have taken too much of your time."

"Meaning I've kept you from the Fade, _Ha'hren_ ," she teased in return, trying to shake off the melancholy.

"Perhaps so. Good night, _Da'len_ ," Solas said, and with a small nod of his head, he turned and headed back, leaving Erafen to her thoughts.

Left to herself, she looked around, and seeing no one in sight, easily scaled the stone wall to sit up on one of its pillars. What an interesting turn! Going from the little Dalish spy to Aide to the Inquisitor and then a student of an apostate elven mage -- unbelieveable! Surely Keeper Deshanna wouldn't believe it.

No, Keeper Deshanna wouldn't believe it, nor would she approve, Erafen considered. This was, however, knowledge, and she would learn to verify it for herself. She had only to brave the path.


	3. Hamin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erafen finally has time to stop and think about a few things, and she finds comfort in an unexpected place.

Even with the sounds of people moving around outside, Erafen still stayed half in dreams, resting in the still-novel concept of a bed. There was no Aravel to repair, no baskets to weave, no other chores to be done other than her own duties. Nobles staying in the Chantry were typically sleeping in, and others ran about their own tasks. She allowed herself the luxury, thinking for just a single blasphemous moment that she understood why some of her kin might want to live in cities.

Scoffing, she blinked her eyes open. It was an unsettling though, but when Erafen considered it, had not her ancestors resided in great cities, lived with the comforts of their magic, and dedicated themselves to great arts and feats? The Dalish were homeless wanderers, holding onto fragments of stories and dreaming of a life that would not be theirs. Would they know what to do with it if it were offered to them?

“Pah,” she said aloud, looking into a small mirror to re-braid her hair into something presentable (and out of her face).

Barely a few weeks passed since her ‘promotion’ to Aide to the Inquisitor. She had few duties still other than keeping an eye on the camp and putting the various reports from Miryam’s advisors into some sort of digestible form. The human’s inner circle all seemed to regard her in different ways: Cassandra tolerated Erafen’s presence, Solas provided intervals of education in the Fade and the lost language of the Elves, and Varric was quickly becoming a trusted friend. She still made time for Minaeve and Josephine, and the remainder was typically spent in hunting for the camp at Haven.

Today, in fact, she would hunt. Magic let her cast small bits of flame to herd a ram into her snare, and once caught, she could finish it off cleanly. She was already plotting her course of action when the gates opened, the Inquisitor and her party returning accompanied by a new face.

“Right, I’ll find a place to settle up,” the new comer, an elven woman, said, her accent marking her from Ferelden. Before anyone could argue, she darted off almost immediately in Erafen’s direction. “Right, look out, Inky.”

“Who are you calling ‘Inky’,?” Erafen retorted, almost amused.

“Who’s the one with ink on'ner face, yeah?” the other elf spouted back.

“Least I don’t have shit on my trousers,” Erafen said.

“What? I don’t got… oh, you’re sneaky, elfy. Right, I’m Sera. Don’t do any weird elfy shite near me and we’ll get on good. Where’s the piss holes?” Sera didn’t wait for an answer, but went off to look for it herself.

“…what?” Erafen blinked hard, looking after where the woman went off behind the houses.

“She is... apart from herself,” a calm voice said from behind her, and Erafen turned to see Solas approaching.

“She’s apart from reality,” Erafen pointed out.  
“That, too,” Solas said with a ghost of a smirk. “Forgive me, but I need to review some things after my journey.”

“By all means,” Erafen said, and she moved aside with a respectful nod to the older elf. She had a thousand questions for him, as she usually did, but they were probably the last thing he wanted to deal with after spending time in Val Royeaux. Instead, she made her way back out to the gate to hunt as she first intended.

\----

Despite being in the gods-forsaken middle of nowhere, Erafen's hunt wasn't without results. Three hares and a ram, as she considered, were no mean feat, and she left the smaller game with one of Threnn's helpers and directions on where to find her other kill, covered so carrion wouldn't consume it.

"We keep you around, we'll stay in meat and furs through the winter," Threnn told her. "Didn't think much at first, you being wildling an' all. Yer more than earning yer keep."

"I'll take it as a compliment then," Erafen said, finally feeling as if she could relax a little around the Ferelden Quartermaster.

"Warden was one of your kind, the Hero of Ferelden," Threnn said. "He supported overthrowing Milord Loghain Mac Tir. Wanted to hate him, but he saved lots of folks."

"We've a saying, the halla are majestic, but even some of them stumble in the brush," Erafen said, helping one of the assistants skin the rabbits. "Meaning we're not always in the mold others say we fit into."

Threnn nodded. "Reckon so, then. More of my kind meet you, maybe they'll change thier minds. I only ever had bad run ins with Dalish and th' City elves are... a sad lot."

"They are, but I can't blame them for looking for something else," Erafen said, working on her kill with trained precision. "Some are content with their lives. Some want more. Most find out working for something more can be a war they can't win."

"Well, no offense, but that's bloody depressing," Threnn said with a huff.

"Life is pain. Anyone telling you differently is likely selling something," the elf replied with a shrug. "Thankfully, beer exists." She winked and went back to gutting the hare.

"Hah!" Threnn barked. "Proof the Maker loves us and wants us to be happy!"

Erafen's only response was a melodic laugh, joined by the others helping her with her task. People are just that: people, she thought to herself. Pointed ears, huge horns, short with no magic, curvy and muscular, all colors and sexes, they were, at their core, just people. Would her wise Keeper agree? Would she frown in disapproval as a former Dalish First exchanged jokes and spoke of gods other than her own?

"Perhaps that is so. If not your Maker, then perhaps someone decided to share," Erafen decided on saying. "Alcohol is the universal constant, something all cultures can agree on."

Threnn snorted at that, amused. "Well said!"

The group fell into amused companionable silence as they went about their tasks, and Erafen took the meat and organs down to Flissa to be made into a stew to feed the Inquisition's leaders while the ram meat went into meat pies for the soldiers. The last bits were into the pot when Erafen noted she was being watched. Rather than let the air hang heavy, she turned to confront the one responsible.

"Sera, right?" she inquired, wandering over to the blonde elf.

"Inky, innit?" Sera replied, grinning.

"Erafen, but sure, I'll take it."

"Saw you about the place. For bein' all elfy, you're not too elfy," Sera pointed out. "Seem like people to me."

"Thanks?" Erafen scratched her head. "Did you cut your hair yourself?"

"Yeah, got in m'eyes," Sera said absently. "Look, you do magic, and that's weird, so don't do magic or too-elfy stuff when I'm around."

"What's your problem with elves? You're one, right?" Erafen sat down, taking the mug of mulled wine Flissa sent her way.

"It's the high and mighty better-than-others shite. Same with nobles. People are just people," Sera said, taking a long drink of her own. "Always gettin' the crap end from the Dalish, always sick of the City Elves not doing anything for themselves unless they do what I do. Nobles shit like everyone else, so it's all stupid."

"Seems like you're pulling at threads," Erafen remarked. "But I'll tell you this: I'll be me, and you'll deal with it. You be you, and I'll deal with it."

"Pfft. Whatever," Sera snorted, but she nodded. "Fine. Works since I'm gonna be sharing your house."

Erafen spat out her wine. "What?!"

"Either you or Ser Elvhen Glory across the way! Ain't sharing a room with that one! All he did was talk about elfy shite the entire way and the Fade this and Veil that!" Sera said.

"You'll be hearing more from him then, since he's teaching me," Erafen said. "And not for past glory. Because I want to know."

"What good's it gonna do you? They'll still see the ears," Sera said.

"It's for me. It's what I love. If... if I can learn, I can understand what went wrong and how we can be better. I can help the People."

Sera errupted into giggles. "Yeah, keep dreamin'! If it makes you happy, fine, but don't expect me not to take the piss outta you. Elves aren't the only 'people'!"

Erafen harrumphed, but as she took a drink of her wine, she found herself amused. Solas said that Sera was 'apart from herself'. "So what is it you do?"

"Piss off nobles, mostly. Steal things, jokes, pranks, that type. Anything to take serious people down some pegs, remind them they're people, too," Sera said. "Stole the breeches off some guards in Val Royeax. Ask Her Ladybits about that sometime. Fighting with no... no breeches!" Sera giggled again, sputtering her mulled wine.

"That'd be a sight," Erafen said, giggling a bit herself.

"So your story. You're Dalish, but you're here, with humans and others," Sera asked.

"My Keeper sent me to spy on the Conclave. She thought the decisions there would affect our people," Erafen replied. "Truth be told, I asked too many questions, poked holes in our sacred stories. Made the others nervous."

"Shakin' the tree branches with the whole clan on 'em?" Sera said, grinning wildly.

"The clerics don't like when I ask them questions either. Think I'm poking fun at them when... when I just want to know. Uppity blasphemous unbeliever, me," Erafen said, absently wondering just how strong the wine really was.

"I believe in the Maker an' Andraste an' all," Sera said. "But the clerics can be like the nobles, yeah?"

"Full of themselves," Erafen stated.

"An' full'a shite," Sera added.

"And very full of shite," Erafen agreed.

Several mugs later, the two headed back to their newly shared shack, giggling over some kind of shared punchline neither remembered the joke it went to (something about templars and smallclothes). Sera immediately fell on her face, falling asleep easily, but Erafen was starting to sober after a few moments, finding sleep elusive.

Sighing in defeat, she got out of bed, took the time to dress warmly, and went outside to walk around. The air was far colder, the wind carrying a definite bite that the furs in her cloak weren’t blocking effectively. She considered the front gates, but instead found herself at the Chantry’s door. While the religious icons inside offered her no comfort, she still entered, sitting down to look through one of the books left out on a small table.

“I did not expect to see you here on your own business,” a gentle voice said from beside her, and Erafen looked up to see Mother Giselle standing there. “May I sit?”

“Please,” Erafen said, moving over to make room. “I was just… cold. Curious.”

“I understand both,” Giselle said, nodding. “The Chantry is a place of comfort for all, no matter belief.”

“I’d like to trust that, but when the Chantry leads an Exalted March against your people, it makes one slow to trust,” Erafen said. “Not that I blame current people. It’s association.”

“The Dalish have long memories, and the distrust is not unwarranted,” Giselle said with a sigh. “Perhaps were I Dalish, I might feel the same.”

“We have long selective memories,” Erafen muttered. “We want better days, when we had homes and not hovels and dirt. Well, that’s what they say. I don’t think my people would know what to do with the opportunity if it was given to them.”

“Even discomfort is a comfort when confronted with change,” Giselle said. “And things sit and fester until…”

“…until someone blows up a Chantry?” Erafen suggested.

“Yes, something like that,” Giselle said with a humorless laugh. “Things reach a breaking point.”

Erafen shook her head, reaching out the pat the book she’d been reading. “A very biased history of Andraste’s life,” she explained. “She hit a breaking point. Even if I don’t believe in the Maker, I can believe in a woman who was tired of suffering and would endure it no more. I’d like better to believe in the woman and her goals instead of her legend and what is has spawned.”

“And what of your own gods?” Giselle prompted.

“I don’t know if they were gods,” Erafen said, reaching to her cheek where the _vallaslin_ that dedicated her to Mythal stained her skin. “Maybe they were, but they’re gone. If they could be tricked, sealed away, they were clearly fallible beings. Their stories existed before Andraste’s campaign, however.”

Giselle nodded, making a “hmm” under her breath. “And the Maker was always there, though turned away from his people.”

“A god that needs to raise one group over another is not a god I want to follow,” Erafen admitted. “That is the problem I have with the Chantry, with the religion, with many who follow it. Why accept a faith that tells you you’re inferior to others?”

“If it comforts you, I do not find you inferior. You ask difficult questions that challenge faith, and faith without challenge cannot grow,” Giselle said finally. “But your point is valid. It is faith that must overcome that.”

“I have that in short supply. For now, I have faith in the Inquisition,” Erafen said finally.

“Then hold to that,” Giselle encouraged. “I believe the Maker sent you to us just as much as he sent us the Herald. What… you look so sad!”

“I was… of course, I wasn’t up there. I’d slipped away into the night to spend some time alone. Next I knew, there was this awful sound and rubble was falling around me. Green tears in the sky, and demons… and I am… alive,” Erafen leaned forward into her hand. “I am alive.”

“All the more reason to continue with us, child,” Giselle say, pulling Erafen into her arms as she would a sobbing toddler. “ _This_ Chantry has a place for you.”

There was no reply other than an occasional choking sob, but Erafen held tightly to the older cleric, sobbing as she finally allowed her grief and guilt to catch up with her. Why would it take such a colossal tragedy for her to finally find a place where she was accepted, even as an outsider? Why did so many die when she lived?

There was no immediate way to tell how much time passed, but the elven woman eventually pulled away, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

“Your robe is wet, sorry,” she said lamely.

Giselle laughed gently. “Tears must be spent so that you can heal. I believe my robes shall recover.”

Erafen let out a small sheepish laugh. “I suppose so. Thank you, Revered Mother.”

“Of course,” Giselle replied. “You are always welcome to return, but for now, perhaps rest is in order?”

“Right.” Erafen nodded, standing up and securing her cloak. “I… if only more of your peers were like you, more of us would consider…” She trailed off, blushing, and whispered a good night before turning to head back out into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I have any idea how long this entire story is going to be, but I wanted to introduce the characters in a comfortable and natural way. The next will be a bit more Solas-heavy, but for a good reason. I want to again thank those of you who have read it, and I look forward to feedback.
> 
> Hamin = Rest
> 
> I also paraphrased The Princess Bride and Ben Franklin. =D


	4. Falon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes friendship just happens.

“Your writing is improving vastly,” Solas said, looking over at the words Erafen scribed onto her parchment.

“It’s simple,” Erafen said. “The shapes make sense when I don’t fight them.”

“The language is in our blood,” came the explanation. “It is only a matter of listening, of letting it flow. Your Keeper should have little difficulty reading your letter.”

“At least the bits in the ancient language,” Erafen replied, finishing her signature. She let the ink dry, looking up from where she sat in her neighbor’s shack. “With as many different words I’ve heard from other clans and in different places, it seems to me this that you’re teaching me might be a dead language.”

Solas seemed to consider. “Dead today, but it lives in memories. The form I teach you was the common used among the middle class. The nobles would have had more subtle inflections, more refined pronunciation.”

“Like listening to the nobles of Ferelden against the lower classes,” Erafen decided.

“Similarly, yes,” Solas replied, nodding. “Language, however, is a result of the culture that spawns it. Each age, each location: both reflect the people using it.”

“Which is why it’s small scattered words and phrases among the Dalish,” she sighed. “I would not stop this undertaking, _Ha’hren_ , but it’s a bit depressing when faced with what’s gone.”

“ _Elvhen him’ena_ ,” Solas said, half to himself, and seemed to come to a decision. “ _Mahvir ma’shiral ven’in_. Tomorrow, travel with me. Lady Trevelyan will be returning to Val Royeaux, and has given me leave to seek an artifact. I thought perhaps I might need her mark to activate it, given that is is tied to the Fade, but there is another way to activate it. I planned on traveling with Varric; I would like your company as well.”

“I’ll have to wrap up some duties and inform Josephine, but I believe I should be able to,” Erafen said after a moment of consideration. “Truthfully, leaving Haven would be nice. I’m tired of the snow.”

“Excellent. Then I shall leave you to your arrangements,” Solas said, almost a dismissal.

Erafen took the hint, standing and rolling her letter. “Tomorrow then, _Ha’hren_.”

——

"Ah, there you are!" Erafen turned to see the Herald herself heading her way. "I've been so wrapped up in my preparations, but I wanted to talk to you. You're not busy, are you?"

"No, I've finished my work. I was just sending a letter to my Keeper," Erafen explained, raising her arm. The raven perched there gave an indignant squawk and spread her wings, flapping in powerful motions to gain altitude and disappear into the dusk.

"Leliana is keeping tabs on the situation in that area, making sure your clan isn't harassed by nobles or brigands or... whoever likes to harass Dalish," Miryam said, indicating that Erafen should walk with her.

"That would be most everyone that _isn't_ Dalish," Erafen said with a wry smirk. "And we don't make it any easier by being unfriendly and isolationist."

The two headed down the path that led towards the front gates and turned left on the path leading to the bridge. It was quiet there, no one paying attention to the pair. Erafen remembered this was where Solas pulled her aside earlier. With so few people on the path, it was a good place for a private chat.

“I understand you’ll be traveling with Solas and Varric tomorrow,” Miryam said. “I appreciate that you’re attending to things while I am unable to. You’ve certainly risen to the challenge.”

“It’s the least I can do. You’ve so much on your plate that you’d need more hands to tend to it, and your advisors can’t afford to leave Haven,” Erafen said. “And truth be told, as I told Solas earlier, I’d like the chance to wander a little, even if it’s wandering with a purpose.”

Miryam nodded, rubbing her afflicted hand thoughtfully. “I would like, then, for you to keep an eye on those you travel with. It’s not for any distrust, but more so that I can better understand and work with them. If you discover rifts, mark your map so I can attend to them, and anything that you find that can help the Inquisition, or anyone, should be diverted to our cause.”

“I had planned on such,” Erafen said, trying to hide her own suspicion. “If I might ask, though, have any of them given you cause to distrust them?”

Miryam shook her head. “Maker, no. It is only… I knew little life outside of my family, the Circle, and the Chantry. My family has long been devout, our children pledged to Chantry service. I was the first mage born in a very long time. When the Circles were disbanded, I became an unwilling rebel, and rather than being associated with that lot, I turned myself into the Chantry and lived under the eyes of my family. The Conclave is one of the first times I’ve traveled alone. I suppose that I’ve been a bit sheltered.”

“I see,” Erafen replied, expression softening. “But what makes me trustworthy for such a task?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps being Dalish? Being an outsider brought inside? You, too, have lived isolated from the outside world.” Miryam raised an eyebrow, questioning though her statement assumed.

“You’re right. I knew very little outside of Dalish society. The Conclave… it was my chance to escape and grow, I suppose,” Erafen admitted. “But you are more a part of this world than I am.”

“Maybe human society made more sense to me, certainly that of nobility, but this, our Inquisition, it exists in a world of its own, almost. We have dwarves, elves of different cultures, humans from all over Thedas, and I believe one or two Qunari have remained.” She shrugged. “I spent years thinking of little beyond the Chantry or Circles, and now…”

“You’ve been doused in cold water, and your eyes are open?” Erafen offered.

“Something like that. I must think beyond just closing the Breach. For this, I need perspectives that are not my own,” Miryam told her.

“Then I pledge my eyes, ears, and instincts to you and the Inquisition,” Erafen stated confidently. “But I think you knew that.”

“I had a feeling,” Miryam told her with a bit of a laugh. “But I needed to hear it.”

“Along those lines, I understand you’re returning to Val Royeaux tomorrow,” the elf said.

“Ah, just outside, a half-day’s ride. We’re going to the salon of the First Enchanter Vivienne, so nicknamed ‘Madame de Fer’ for _some_ reason,” Miryam said. “So I will be there with my best manners and be ready to play The Game, which only ever ends in a headache.” She rolled her eyes thinking of it. "Or with serious cases of death."

Erafen groaned. “Leliana told me some of that nonsense. I’m sure my ancestors had their own games of politics, but this sounds ridiculous!”

“It is ridiculous,” Miryam insisted, “but to work with the Orlesian Court, one must play and play well.”

“I do not envy you this,” Erafen said. “ _Era seranna ma_.”

“That was… ‘excuse me’, right? I’m learning,” Miryam laughed. “Were our positions reversed, I would probably not envy me, either. And there’s the bell,” she added, hearing the chime from the Chantry for evening prayers. “I told Cullen I would join him for dinner afterwards to be assured he does not miss dinner in favor of planning excursions.”

Erafen nudged the human. “Fancy the Commander, do you? I haven’t missed how you are around him, or him around you. He’s easy on the eyes, for a human.”

“Hah, even if I do, nothing can come of this, not with as much as we have to do,” Miryam lamented. “You have spent much time with our local apostate.”

“He is teaching me, and he is not the only apostate around,” Erafen said. “Truthfully, even were I to be interested in him above our senior/junior relationship, I doubt that he is. He is so secretive. You are more likely to succeed with Cullen than I with Solas.”

“Is that a bet?” Miryam asked.

“Not likely if neither of us pursue our quarry!” It was Erafen’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Very well. It’s a bet. Sort of,” Miryam decided.

“Whatever milady says,” Erafen teased.

“Of course it is,” Miryam laughed. “And I must go. Be safe on your journ… oh, I remember. _Dareth shiral_.”

“ _Dareth shiral, falon_.” Erafen smiled.

“‘ _Falon_ ’?”

“Friend.”

Miryam smiled broadly, nodded, and turned off back towards the Chantry.

Left alone, Erafen turned the opposite way, heading to nimbly scale the wall and sit on its edge, looking out over the frozen lake below. She considered for a moment what things might have been like if she’d been given the Mark instead of Miryam. Surely a Maker long turned from his people wouldn’t have interfered, and Andraste had only been a single woman, no real spiritual being. It very well might have happened. Then again, she might have also died in the explosion that took so many other mages, clerics, and templars. At the very least, she felt that the chances of the Inquisition’s success would be seriously diminished with a Dalish Herald.

“Dalish Herald,” she snorted to herself. Sure, that was likely! She shook her head derisively at the thought. She still couldn’t believe she was the Herald’s Aide. There was another thing, then, one she rarely let herself consider save that Miryam actually noticed: she was at least a little interested in her _ha’hren_ as more than a teacher. She’d flirted twice on purpose, and though he’d indicated interest in response, immediately after he returned to his usual politeness.

“ _Fenedhis_ ,” she cursed under her breath in frustration. Miriam clearly liked and trusted the older elf. Cassandra was a bit at odds, though he seemed to respect her for her humility. Sera considered Solas to be an insufferable know it all, and Varric just shrugged off things Solas said as if humoring him. He was polite to the people around him, but he stood apart, making him seem unapproachable, where really anyone interested in learning from him would find him fascinating.

Heaving a sigh, Erafen let herself turn and drop down to her feet, heading back to her shared shack. Sera wasn’t there, thankfully, giving Erafen a chance to prepare her pack. There wasn’t much she owned, so packing was quick and easy, leaving her ready to depart the next day. She understood Solas was going to be requisitioning food, but she insisted that they could also hunt. She looked out through the window, just in time to see him approaching his own front door. As if he could feel her eyes, he turned to meet her gaze, giving her a small nod before entering his temporary home.

Indeed, Erafen considered, tomorrow’s venture into the Hinterlands would be interesting to say the least.


	5. Enansal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the story goes, Erafen will be doing a few things on behalf of the Herald, including excursions in search of lost elven knowledge. I also, in playing this part, wanted to punch Mihris in the nose.

Erafen stood stark still, taking in her surroundings. The scene looked like forest, but none she'd seen short of the fabled Emerald Graves. The trees were taller than any she'd ever seen, with spires of crystal interwoven, a part of the trees but also apart from them. Starlight hung in the sky, showing a pale teal in the reflection of green mists instead of the blue-white her mind told her it should be. Before here was what looked like a simple iron brazier, ill-fitting for a place as glorious and crystalline as this. She was curious, but did not approach.

"Of course," she said aloud. "This is the Fade."

In the darkness behind the unlit brazier, there was a low rumble, a combination of a growl and deep laughter. Erafen tensed, but still she did not move, staying steadfast even as red lights approached. As they came closer, she saw there were six, and all a bright vermilion. Features appeared through the mists: black fur, a powerful muzzle, sharp ears twitching in response to the sounds of night around them.

"You know me," the same low growl spoke.

"Fen'Harel," Erafen said, and still, she did not move.

"You know me and do not fear," the Wolf continued.

"What have I to fear in the Fade? I am no longer First. Tricking a Dalish expatriate will serve little purpose," Erafen stated boldly.

The low growl-laugh sounded again, and Erafen felt it vibrate through her chest like the burst of a halla horn. The Wolf walked around the brazier, sitting back on his haunches a mere foot from the elven woman. Standing, he was at eye level with her, and sitting he seemed much bigger.

"I have not come to trick you, _Da'len_ ," he said finally. "There are things The People are ready to reclaim, things you must know if you are to show them."

"Again, I am separated from The People," Erafen said, but was interrupted by a huff of warm breath in her face.

"You are separated from the Dalish," Fen'Harel insisted. "You are separated from the City Elves. You are in a position to reclaim those who have lost themselves."

"Then teach me. I am not afraid," Erafen replied, testing the waters.

"You may find yourself afraid," the Wolf said, and vanished.

In the next instant, strong hands held themselves to Erafen's center, pulling her flush to a very non-lupine body. For a moment, she thought she found them familiar, but banished the thought. Of course the Dread Wolf could assume an Elvhen form.

"Here is where your magic rests, in the core of you. It is ancient and everlasting, a part of all elves should they seek it, even if they cannot channel it as you might. Look within yourself and find the parts that connect with the Fade."

Erafen did as she was told, and did, indeed, see those parts. Of course, it was far easier actually being in the Fade, apart from physical form and limitations.

"Good," Fen'Harel breathed in her ear. "Now focus on the brazier. You will not be calling the fire of the waking world on it, but the fires made from the energies of the Fade. It is the first lesson. Make it so."

"Yes, _Ha'hren_." Erafen closed her eyes, focusing on the instructions given. When she reached incorrectly, she felt the Wolf redirecting her with an unexpected gentleness, and finally, after several false starts, flames of green erupted from the ironwork form, illuminating the area in its ghostly light.

"Well done, _Da'len_ ," he told her, growling in approval. "And that is enough for tonight."

"Why have you come to me? Where are our gods?" Erafen blurted out, turning around. All she saw, however, was silver and smoke, both wafting into nothingness.

" _Ha'hren_!!" she called out. The darkness, however, replied by exploding into light, and she woke to see concerned blue staring back at her, a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Were you dreaming?" Solas asked, face scrunched in concern. "You called out."

"I was," Erafen said. "And so odd." As Solas moved away, she sat up, rubbing her eyes. "I dreamed of... well, it isn't important. I am glad, however, that I am sharing a tent with you rather than Sera, were she here. She'd be laughing at me by now."

Solas perched back on his heels, smiling faintly. "The Veil is thin here. One such as she would not understand your dreams for what they are."

"And what are they, _Ha'hren_?" She looked at him curiously, throwing off her cover.

"Whispers of magic, of the past, of memories long lost. You appreciate them; you will learn from them," Solas stated.

"Did you see.... him?" Erafen wondered.

"Him? I'm not sure of who you mean. I was miles off in the Fade, searching for the artifact," Solas explained.

"Then no," Erafen sighed. "It's nothing. Probably an old memory I stepped into."

"Ah, that does happen. You were already a lucid dreamer, but I believe you may become a true Dreamer with practice," he told her. "For now, I shall leave you to prepare for the day. We have much ground to cover." Before Erafen could argue, Solas was already up and leaving the tent.

"Great," Erafen muttered, and went about changing into her traveling gear.

After a breakfast of travel bread and rabbit jerky, the trio set out from the lakeside camp, traveling east with Solas leading the way. Bandits along the way were quickly dispatched, their pockets looted for useful gear and food. A few abandoned camps also proved fruitful, but they were not lingered over -- the artifact Solas sought was far more important, and so they covered ground quickly, despite Varric's vocal desire for more even terrain.

"Seriously, is even terrain too much to ask for?" Varric groused.

"What's wrong with the ground?" Erafen wondered.

"Oh, you might be used to traipse into the forests and countryside, riding _halla_ , throwing things at _shemlen_ , or whatever you did before this. I'm from the city!" Varric explained. "And, well, short legs."

"I'm barely a foot taller than you, Master Tethras!" Erafen said with a laugh.

"Laugh it up, Lily," the dwarf said, so naming her after red lilies for her hair. "You at least aren't as... stubby as my people."

"The Child of the Stone has a point, _Da'len_ ," Solas interjected, clearly amused by the conversation.

"Now you're taking his side. I see how it is," Erafen huffed.

"I take no one's side, only am making a statement. Now we must... silence!" Solas held his hand up, and Erafen, taking the cue, scrambled up a tree for a better look.

"See, I was right," Varric muttered, readying Bianca.

After a few moments, Erafen made her way down silently. "Not a bandit, but a Dalish woman, beset by demons. Should I take point on this?"

"As you like," Solas told her, allowing Erafen to lead instead.

The Dalish in question was tall and wiry, her dark hair cut short and slicked back out of her eyes. She seemed young, younger than Erafen to be certain, but perhaps around Sera's age as far as she could tell. Her face was adorned with the _vallaslin_ of June, Master of Crafts, and it seemed recently applied at that. She was indeed fighting demons, and Erafen immediately produced her staff to assist.

When all of the Fadespawn were vanquished, it seemed everyone could breathe in relief. The lone Dalish approached, nodding respectfully at Erafen.

" _Andaran atish'an_. I did not expect to see another of Dalish blood here. My name is Mihris," the woman said. She glanced at Erafen's companions, puzzled and distrustful of a bare-faced elf and a dwarf. "By your weapons, I see you've come ready for battle. Perhaps we face a common enemy in these demons."

"Are you fighting the demons on your own?" Erafen wondered.

"Fighting the demons is pointless. There will always be more, and I have no means of closing the rifts," Mihris replied ruefully. "But I have heard of Elven artifacts that measure the Veil. They may tell us where new rifts will appear."

Erafen was, of course, more than willing to lend assistance, catching a nod from Solas. She inquired of Mihris why she was alone, and was shocked to hear the woman's Keeper summoned a demon that killed her clan.

"I am the only survivor of Clan Virnehn," Mihris said, furhter explaining how now her purpose was to help with the rifts. Erafen considered offering on behalf of Miryam to invite the elf into their ranks when a derisively said comment turned her opinion sour.

"I know far more of the magics here than the _shemlen_ and _seth'lin_ ," Mihris continued.

" _Ma harel, Da'len_ ," Solas said darkly.

"I... we should continue," the younger Dalish said, uncertain. She fell silent, gathering her thoughts as they approached the blocked entrance to crumbled ruins.

"This must be the place," Erafen said, inspecting the blockage.

"We'll need focused magical energy to get by," she said, and turned to Solas. "You, flat-ear. Can you manage it?"

Before Erafen could manage calling out the other Dalish, Solas spoke up. " _Ma nunevin, Da'len._ "

Erafen took a breath. _Well played, Ha'hren_ , she thought. "We will do this together."

The three elven mages approached, pooling magic into a glyph set by Solas, and the pillars exploded upwards and to the side, opening the entrance. There was little time to appreciate their success as more dark creatures poured forth to attack them, the first easily dispathed by a ready arrow fired from Bianca.

Once inside, Erafen again led the way, pausing at an iron brazier, one not unlike what she saw in the Fade. She reached to touch it, and with a push at the Veil, jade flame erupted from inside it.

"How did you... I have heard of Veilfire but never seen it done," Solas said, astounded. "It is a form of sympathetic magic, a memory of flame that burns in this world where the Veil is thin."

"My dream," Erafen said, transfixed by the flame.

"We must hurry," Mihris said insistently.

"Of course," Erafen muttered, shaking her head. She took a torch from the floor, pulling the flame from the brazier to its tip, and set out again, turning to head down the adjoining stairs. More shades were there to greet them, but the small party was more than enough to end them.

"There," Mihris indicated. "If we activate that crystal, it should react to the strength of the Veil."

Erafen was uncertain as to how, but if she could summon flame from the Fade, perhaps she could use the same technique to feed the crystal. If so, she could share this with Miryam if more of these artifacts were found. A tentative touch to the device, a push of energy, and the crystal within it did indeed activate, a steady stream of emerald forming around it.

"Well done," Solas told her. "The Veil is stronger now. It will be safer for travelers along the East Road."

Mihris noticed a glint to the side, and approached to pick up what looked like an ancient pendant. "Well, the ancestors are kind. I believe this concludes our alliance. Go in peace."

" _Ma halani, ma glandival. Vir Enasalin_." Solas extended his hand, looking expectant.

"I... perhaps you are right. Here, take it," Mihris said, handing him the amulet. "Go with Mythal's blessing."

"Indeed," Solas told her. " _Dareth shiral_ ," he added, almost as an afterthought, looking the pendant over with a critical eye. He turned to head out, expecting the others to follow.

Once outside and away from the younger Dalish, Erafen and Varric moved closer.

"Looks that Mihris might think twice before insulting another elf she doesn't recognize," Varric said. "What did you say to her to make it hand it over?"

"Only that she owes us for our help," Solas said. "And this artifact requires my study. See these markings? One one side it bears the mark of Mythal, but the other..."

"Fen'Harel," Erafen said. "The little... almond shapes there. They look like the pattern of his eyes in some of the ancient murals."

"Well caught, _lethallan_ ," Solas said absently, turning it over. Melancholy washed over his features, but only briefly, pulled back in as quickly as it manifested.

"Keep it," Erafen told him. "It's nothing the Inquisition needs. Maybe it wasn't Mythal's blessing that led us there."

Solas looked at her curiously, and with another nod, he tucked it into the pouch on his belt. "Perhaps so, perhaps not. Either way, our business is concluded, unless the both of you wish to explore more."

"Not me, Chuckles," Varric said. "I'm ready for plenty of ale, cards, and warm fire."

"I'd like to explore, but we are expected back soon. I believe if we continue on, we can make the Crossroads by night, stay there, and ride back with one of the Inquisition's caravans," Erafen said.

"Very well," Solas said agreeably. "This has been a fascinating day, to say the least."

"You handled that Mihris pretty well. I didn't miss the barbs she threw your way, Chuckles," Varric told him. "Of course, I've dealt with some pretty opinionated Dalish before."

"I have read your Tales, _durgen'len_ ," Solas said. "The Dalish First, Merrill, I believe her name was."

"That was her, our Daisy," Varric said. "She's working to improve the lot of the City Elves in Kirkwall, trying to teach them the old stories, work to improve conditions. Her Clan gave her the boot after that business with her mirror."

"I think I'd like to meet her," Erafen said. "I read the stories, too. I felt bad for her, but at the same time, I hope she learned from her mistakes. Pride can be our downfall if unchecked." She missed the curious look Solas sent her way, looking towards Varric instead as they continued.

"I think Daisy learned her lesson," Varric decided. "Maybe someday, when this is over, I'll introduce you to her. You two would certainly have a lot to talk about."

"Maybe so," Erafen said, still oblivious to the way Solas watched her.

" _Lethallan_ ," he finally said, his expression again guarded when Erafen turned his way. "You surprised me today. I am pleased in your progress."

Erafen colored slightly, ears pink as she blushed from the praise and in how the older elf addressed her. "Thank you, _Lethallin_ ," she told him, addressing him in the same manner.

"You elves and your language. It sounds pretty, but some of us are feeling left out here," Varric teased.

Erafen laughed, blushing a bit deeper. "My apologies, Varric. Come on, tell us a story while we walk."

"Hmmm," Varric considered, looking thoughtful. "Did I tell you about trying to teach Fenris how to play Wicked Grace?" he began, and the trio continued on companionably on their way back.

\----

That night, Erafen wandered outside of the small Crossroads village, finding a rock outcropping to lean against and look at the stars. Her life changed so much in barely a pair of months, she could scarce believe if. Meeting with Mihris, however, showed her much of what she left behind, and even more, what she wanted to end. She bristled hearing the woman call her mentor a 'flat-ear' without bothering to learn of his circumstances. If anything, Erafen considered him as honoring their people far more than her Dalish kin.

There was more, however. He called her _lethallan_ , his kin, rather than the diminutive _da'len_. Did something change today that had him consider her an equal? Did she cease being a Dalish in his eyes and become another elf, one he could claim kinship with?

Her eyes slipped closed, and she again saw the ghost of red eyes and a wolf's muzzle. She shook her head, trying to banish the image.

"You have been here alone for some time." Solas approached, and Erafen sat up. He shook his head, instead opting to sit next to her.

"I was thinking over the day. I didn't expect us to be done so quickly, and then... I didn't expect to see another Dalish," Erafen said.

"I had confidence in our direction," Solas explained. "I did not expect to find her either."

"I wanted to smack her for what she said," Erafen admitted.

"No harm done. She cannot insult one she does not know, not when the target knows himself far better than she ever will," Solas said. "And perhaps she might have something to think on after this."

"My clan was like that. So quick to think any elf without _vallaslin_ was inferior or not truly an elf," she said softly. "How could we hold such disdain for our kin? How can we divide ourselves so?"

"You ask difficult questions. It could be that the People were left without proper guidance for too long. It could be because of the rise of humans, tearing down those they do not understand with their misguided zeal," Solas supplied. "It could be a mistake made centuries ago that we all pay for today."

"There is no effect that does not have a cause," Erafen agreed.

"Have you found yourself changed in any way since joining the Inquisition?" Solas wondered. "You have been surrounded by so many so different from what you knew."

"I am still myself, as always I was," Erafen said. "But I feel that I've learned new things. I've had to be accepting and adaptive else I get washed away and lost."

"Perhaps I have misjudged the Dalish if they could produce a woman like you," Solas commented.

"No, they can be closed-minded and insular," Erafen said with a roll of her eyes. "But I would not trade being from them. Our upbringing and experiences make us who we are, yes, but so do our choices."

"I shall remember that," Solas said, and he fell silent, eyes drifting towards Erafen's. He held her gaze for a long moment before finally turning skyward.

Erafen had nothing more to say in response, following to regard the night sky as well, finding solace in the quiet company and light of the stars.


	6. Serannas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erafen doesn't really care for Vivienne. Also included is a private moment with her mentor.

First Enchanter Vivienne was like no one Erafen ever had experience with. Sera’s description of the human was a simple “she’s a bitch”, while Varric diplomatically called her a product of her class. Miryam was completely enamored, though she disagreed with some of Vivienne’s more conservative beliefs, the two having spent long hours debating their different circumstances in their respective Circles. Solas, it seemed, preferred not to comment, though there was a faint expression as if he smelled something bad and didn’t want to comment on it. For her part, Erafen was reluctant to speak with the woman, but it seemed the First Enchanter wanted to speak with her, delivering a message through one of Leliana’s people.

“Well, here goes,” Erafen told her reflection, making sure her outfit was clean and together, free of crumbs and spillage from her rushed lunch.

“Watch out for the fangs,” Sera teased, fletching her arrows on her bed.

“I’m sure she doesn't _bite_ , just stings like a wasp,” Erafen replied, and with that, she set out to the Chantry.

The First Enchanter had herself set up in the fore of the Chantry proper, sitting where Erafen had been during her conversation with Mother Giselle. She rose the moment the elf approached. “My dear, you are prompt. Mother Giselle has told me so many glowing things of you, of how you’re helping our poor overworked Herald. Allow me to introduce myself. I am First Enchanter Vivienne of the Montsimmard Circle.”

“I am Erafen of Clan Lavellan. I want to do my part. The Breach and the election of a new Divine affects us all, even those not of the Chantry,” Erafen said, her tone even despite her nervousness.

“Indeed it does,” Vivienne said, nodding. “But we have time to speak on these things later. I wanted to know of you. I’m quite curious about the magical training of the Dalish.”

Erafen was more pleased that Vivienne was direct in her inquiry. She could handle that far better than this ‘Game’ the Orlesians played. “We are trained under our Keepers, those who have magic, to be First and possibly Second.”

“And have you no one to protect you from possession or misuse of power?” Vivienne asked, indicating a chair for Erafen to sit in.

“We have no Templars, if that’s what you’re asking, but we really haven’t much call for that. We are rigorously disciplined, and any failures reflect poorly on our Keepers,” Erafen said, honestly baffled by the question.

“Tell me, what becomes of the Dalish youngster who is not appointed First or Second?” Vivienne wondered.

“Usually they’re sent to another clan lacking a mage, at least in other clans,” Erafen replied. “In mine, we are trained together until we are of age, and then we are given to another clan. This way magic always survives among the People.”

Vivienne considered that, taking a sip of her tea. The second cup, Erafen guessed, was for her, and she saw Vivienne relax a little when she took it.

"I'd wondered if you were self-taught; I'd heard of the traditions of magic among the Dalish Keepers, though it's all third-hand," Vivienne explained. "In my experience, nothing is more deadly to a young mage than a lack of knowledge, which makes the current state of things... _precarious_. Tell me, if the Circles were not restored, would the Dalish take us all under their wing?"

"This war benefits _no one_ ," Erafen insisted. "If neither side will listen, then it's no different than children sticking their fingers in their ears and singing loudly."

The First Enchanter did crack a smile at that, nodding in agreement. "If only the rebels saw things so clearly."

"And the Templars fighting them," Erafen added pointedly.

Vivienne quirked an eyebrow, but said nothing, instead taking another few sips of her tea thoughtfully. To Erafen, the older woman's expression was like that of one looking over a chess board or a strategic map.

“Lady Miryam and Mother Giselle both speak highly of your skill as a mage and desire to help the Inquisition,” she finally stated. “I wondered what value a Dalish would have among us, what those what those with whom we are trying to curry favor may think with us openly accepting apostates. Appearances _are_ important when help is desperately needed, my dear.”

“If you’re hinting that I need to stay in the background, believe me, I would like to, but I don’t think that helps my people nor does it help Miryam,” Erafen pointed out. "I don't care if she is divinely chosen or was in the wrong place at the right time; I believe in what the Inquisition is doing, and I believe she is my friend."

“In what way do you wish to help the elves?” Vivienne asked suddenly, confusing Erafen in the moment.

The Dalish considered, and seemed to decide. “I want us no longer stuck in poverty or clinging to poorly-remembered fragments of what was. Our pride cost us progress; we can be more than we are, but not what we were,” came the response.

Vivienne made a "hmm" under her breath, looking again critically at the elf. "It seems your Dalish had a limited number of mages in each clan. That would make it far easier to control them. The populations in the Circles were far greater; there was a greater need for control of those who would misuse their power or fall prey to demons. Were your people to band together, they may not have the luxury of their traditional training or management."

"I couldn't say that I know anything about the Circles or Templars other than having spoken to some of the mages at the Conclave or the little I've gathered from the Commander and our Seeker," Erafen admitted. "My people have long been opinionated about things they know little of, and they've chosen to not to learn about what's different. Not a one of us are all-knowing, experienced we may be, and I don't wish to make that mistake."

Erafen thought she might have seen an odd expression cross over the First Enchanter's face, but it was quickly masked. "Perhaps not. Even so, if you are to be a representative of our Herald, then you need to show no public dissent with her or her advisors. A Dalish lending support to Andraste's Herald, if played properly, has potential. You may be what no one expects."

"So Josephine has told me, which is why I'm learning something she calls 'Courtly Graces' and silverware and conversation skills," Erafen said, heaving a mighty sigh.

"You may yet come to enjoy it, my dear," Vivienne remarked, amused. "You and I shall have tea when we have time. We've far more to discuss, and I've a soft spot for one so hungry to learn."

"Even an elf?" Erafen wondered.

"I _do_ enjoy a challenge," Vivienne laughed. "And I have taken enough of your time. You have duties to attend to," she added, clearly a dismissal.

"I look forward to tea," Erafen said, standing up. She didn't bow, but made a slight courtsey as Josephine showed her before, and without waiting, she left.

To be honest, she couldn't get away from the First Enchanter fast enough. That woman was unnerving! Vivienne, to her, was like a nightmare version of her own Keeper, commanding respect, yes, and having earned her power, true, but Erafen did not trust her the way she trusted her Keeper. Vivienne was definitely playing at more, and Erafen knew she'd need to keep her guard up around the human. Whatever plan the First Enchanter was hatching would end up with her on top, if she had her way.

With her mind so lost in possibilities and what-ifs, Erafen didn't realize she was back until she looked up to see the rear of her shared quarters. Her path missed completely, she headed around the back to the alchemist's house, looking to head to her front door through the space between.

"I hadn't thought about it that way, but I see your point," Miryam's voice sounded, just as Erafen peered around the corner.

"I... thank you. Few are willing to entertain such a notion," Solas replied, looking almost astounded. He nodded respectfully to the human woman. As he looked up, he noticed Erafen, turning to acknowledge her.

Miryam, noting the elf's gaze, turned as well. "Ah, you're done with Vivienne, I see. I needed a moment of her time, so I won't linger longer. We'll talk later." She gave her friend a broad smile, and with that, headed back towards the Chantry.

"We were having a discussion of my experiences in the Fade," Solas explained. "And naturally, the conversation turned to spirits and demons. She shows a willingness to put aside the dangerous teaching of the Chantry regarding them."

“I doubt you’ll get such acceptance from the First Enchanter,” Erafen said, her eyes rolling just a bit. “I do think she believes in the Chantry and that, in her experience, it’s the best, but her experience is not that of others. Her questions left me ill at ease.”

“Walk with me, tell me what you discussed,” Solas insisted, taking the direction of the front gate instead of the side path. As they exited, they both looked over when Cullen shouted a command at his trainees, but Erafen was pleased to see he only waved at the pair as they exited.

“We are trusted enough to come and go as we will,” Erafen commented.

“Indeed. I believe, in their eyes, we have proven ourselves,” he replied, heading in the direction of the frozen lake. “So what was it she asked of you?”

“Several things,” she replied, and recounted the conversation in as much detail as she could, taking note of any expressions her mentor might show as she did. For the most part, he seemed interested, though occasional worry lines showed.

“You believe Pride has cost the People?” he asked after moments of silence.

“It is not lost on me that your name means ‘pride’ in our tongue,” she told him, voice tense. “I have long thought it was a name you chose for yourself. What I did not tell Vivienne is that in some cases, our pride is all we have left.”

“Indeed, _lethallan_.” he said simply. “But you did not answer my question.”

“Why else would we not seek new answers or try harder to change our place? Why would we not ask for help? When our pride was gone, then there were nothing but resorting to the human cities, and that led to the Alienages,” Erafen said. “So yes, our pride has cost us, but for the sake of having something to be proud of, we could… become more. Better. ”

No answer came from the older elf. He looked ahead, expression still as an Orlesian mask until they reached the pier over the frozen lake.

“What would the Dalish say?” he finally asked, looking at her curiously.

“They would blame Fen’Harel,” she automatically told him. “They would blame the _shemlen_ , blame the absent gods, blame anyone other than themselves.”

“You blame the Dalish?” he wondered.

“Well, not all of us, no,” Erafen stated pointedly. “But I blame us as a group. Our leaders looked too far into the past with no real attempt to live up to it or create a legacy. The City Elves have given up, cast their lot with the humans and surface dwarves. I do not blame gods long absent, not even the Dread Wolf.” For a moment, she remembered those eyes in the Fade. There’d been no trickery, no honeyed words. There was merely intent. “No, not even him. In truth, we are far past blame, really.”

“These considerations seem a long time in the deciding,” Solas told her, sitting cross-legged on the dock. Erafen settled on the other side.

“Twenty five years. Not long, but a lifetime,” she replied. “I am finally free to give voice to these thoughts. I finally have someone I trust who will listen, won’t laugh or… or send me away.” Her expression fell, the wall she'd kept the emotions dammed behind threatening to break.

“Is this not what you wanted? To be free to question and learn?” Solas wondered, though his tone was gentle.

“It still feels no less like being unwanted. To be told you are loved and then be sent away,” Erafen began, but then her voice caught. She looked at her hands, the pain in her admission fresh as she recounted it. “If I’d known in advance, I could have prepared.”

"There is much that we see behind us, but we rarely see what approaches," Solas told her. "And we cannot always know the minds and hearts of others."

"We could if they would tell us," Erafen lamented, not looking up.

“You should have been chosen, not our present Herald,” Solas said plainly. Erafen looked up at him, eyes red with tears barely shed. He leaned forward, eyes locked to hers. “You walk a path of knowledge and learning, one that a group called the ‘Inquisition’ would benefit from. You have something others lack.”

“I wouldn’t want to be, though. I can help Miryam as I am,” Erafen told him. 

“Those who would wisely wield power are not the ones who actively seek it. I do not doubt Lady Miryam is up to the task. I only meant that I believe you… are more worthy of it.” He leaned back, breaking the eye contact. “You train your will to control magic and withstand possession without the aid and watchful eyes of a Circle or Templars. Your indomitable focus is an enjoyable side benefit.”

Erafen blinked hard. “…Indomitable focus?”

“Presumably.” Solas looked at her again. “I have yet to see it dominated. I imagine that the sight would be… fascinating.”

Erafen, in that instant, wished that she was below the icy water. Her cheeks and ears felt hot, and she knew she was blushing. When she turned back to look at Solas, he was clearly amused. She wondered what her _lethallin_ would look like with a handful of snow shoved down the back of his tunic. She cleared her throat.

“Is all of this why you’ve started referring to me as an equal?” she asked him.

“Among other reasons,” he cryptically replied. “When I first met you, I only saw a Dalish. Now, I see one of the People.” He turned his attention back to the ice as if looking beneath the it.

She didn’t know what to say at that, instead looking to the ice as well, watching the sun’s light bounce and reflect off its layered surface. How long they stayed in companionable silence, she couldn’t say until the Chantry bells crashed in the near distance.

“I need to go,” she told Solas, barely sure she heard her own voice. "I'm expected."

“I will not keep you,” he told her, not looking up.

She stood, turning to go, and then considered. “The Fereldens have a word that sounds like similar to your name. I’m positive you’ve heard it. Solace. Comfort in time of distress. I find it appropriate tonight. _Ma serannas_.” Before her companion could say a word in reply, she took off at a run back towards the main gate.

 


	7. Samahl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's have a laugh at Erafen's expense!

“My my, this is becoming quite the hotbed of diversity,” Vivienne said, watching as Miryam, Solas, Varric, and Cassandra marched in through the front gate in the company of a massive horned Qunari and his mercenary company.

“We cannot afford to reject any assistance that comes our way, milady,” Josephine pointed out.

“And what we do affects all of Thedas,” Erafen added emphatically. “They should have a say, and moreso, a part to play in these affairs.”

“The Chantry should be at the fore of this movement,” Vivienne said under her breath.

“The Chantry rejected us, at least, until the Templars showed their hand. I do not trust them, those who sided with the Head Seeker,” Erafen retorted.

“My dear, I am not saying you are wrong. We would do well to strengthen the ties we rebuild with the Chantry, not further strain them,” Vivienne countered.

“I believe that with proper diplomacy, we may have both,” Josephine said evenly. “At present, the more pressing concern is the strength of our military, and I do not see Commander Cullen rejecting the aid.”

“I will concede, then, my dears. If our ambassador believes we can be successful at both, I will add my best efforts in my spheres of influence,” Vivienne told them. “This may be an opportunity.”

“Milady, everything to you is an opportunity,” Erafen jabbed. “I’m almost envious of your outlook.”

At this, Vivienne laughed openly. “And you are a perceptive youngling,” she replied. “I am quite coming to like you.”

Erafen couldn’t say the feeling was mutual or that she really believed the First Enchanter, but she only smiled and nodded, receiving a look of approval from Josephine. “This is also my cue to speak with our guests and attend to housing. Poor Miryam looks ready to drop.”

“She looks far better than she has on prior missions. She is growing much stronger,” Josephine stated.

“Indeed. Moving from a life of a student to so active a role would require one increase endurance and strength. I’m quite proud of my friend,” Erafen told the ambassador, smiling broadly, and she wandered down the hill to meet the arrivals.

“Erafen, thank the Maker you’re here to meet us!” Miryam called out, beckoning her friend closer as the large Qunari and his men turned around. “If I never have to go to the Storm Coast again, I can die happy!”

“Aptly named, yes? Even my clan spent very little time there. Good fishing, though,” Erafen teased.

“You’re welcome to it,” Miryam groused. “Don’t worry about Bull or his men; they’ll be camping outside of the gates and can tend to themselves. I’ll introduce you to him after he’s set up and settled.”

“There’s a relief. I was already thinking on how to accommodate them,” Erafen said. “As long there’s no over-hunting, we should stay in meat and and preserves.”

“Iron Bull seems to have a good head between those horns, so I doubt you’ll get much trouble,” Miryam said with a firm nod. She led the way back into the Chantry, stopping to say hello to Vivienne and Josephine where they were still standing to watch. Continuing inside, she beckoned Erafen to follow.

“Oh, ‘Fen,” Miryam began, heaving a great sigh as they headed towards her room. “This is far more camping and trudging in the rain and being nice to strangers than I ever expected!” She sat on one of the unadorned chairs, pulling off her boots with little ceremony, her pack slung in a corner.

“Miry, if you want me to go on some of these excursions for you, you have but to ask,” Erafen told her. “You know I enjoy chances to get out. This, of course, required your attention.”

“As does my next task,” Miryam sighed. “Before I left for the Storm Coast, Leliana told me something disturbing. Apparently, Grey Wardens haven’t been seen since the Blight, as if they’ve all vanished.”

“Missing Wardens?” Erafen repeated, surprised. “Perhaps they’ve returned to Weisshaupt?”

“Were that the case, we’d probably still have a clue. It’s enough to have Leliana’s spy senses aflame,” Miryam replied, shaking her head. “There’s sightings of a Warden in the Hinterlands; I was going to speak with him in a few days time, and after that, I plan on going to Redcliffe to speak with the mages under Grand Enchanter Fiona.”

“Busy, busy,” Erafen said in sympathy.

“Well, I wanted to bring you with me,” Miryam told her.

“Me?” Erafen blinked. “I wouldn’t say no, but why?”

Miryam let out another sigh, dumping a rock out of her boot. “I want to have Cassandra, but I want mages with me that are not Vivienne. I fear her presence would disrupt any talks of peace.”

“Because she wants to reinstate the Circles.” Erafen frowned as Miryam nodded positive. “I take it you’ve decided to approach them over the Templars.”

“Perhaps it was that they were guards over us, or have had to kill younglings who could not pass their Harrowing, or… or any number of reasons, but I’m more inclined to trust other mages,” Miryam admitted. “Cullen will have words with me over this.”

“And he will see reason because you are charming and intelligent. Also, you are right,” Erafen pointedly said.

“All the more reason I want you with me,” Miryam said. “I’ll bring you, Solas, and Cassandra on this mission. I’d bring Varric, but he told me he needed to attend to some business that required on waiting for correspondence.”

“Maybe he’s publishing another serial,” Erafen suggested.

“Perhaps, but it sounded more urgent than that,” Miryam replied. “And of course, I don’t yet trust Sera not to open her mouth and stick her boot in it.”

Erafen snickered. “I think your judgement is sound in that. Cassandra could come as a representative of the Chantry who can understand the Templars’ view without compromising your intent.”

Miryam agreed, her head bobbing. “And while you and Solas are both elves, you are both mages of great power and skill. Three mages and a Seeker make a better diplomatic party.”

Erafen nodded in return. “More than enough of both to handle ourselves if trouble happens, too.”

The human mage seemed pleased with that assessment, but as she sat back in her chair, her expression turned curious. “You and Solas spend a lot of time together when we’re not traveling,” she said.

“He’s teaching me of what he’s learned in the Fade, the language of our people and lost histories,” Erafen said, keeping a few of the more personal discussion to herself.

“Do you trust him?” Miryam wondered.

“I do,” Erafen said. “While he keeps many things to himself, I have no doubt as to his intentions. He is kind and patient with me.”

“As he is with me, though he was quite scathing of the Iron Bull during our recruitment. Personal freedoms seem important to him,” Miryam said.

“Not a fan of the Qun? That seems reasonable. He and Vivienne are at odds, I’ve noticed.” Erafen still remained inwardly guarded.

“He is an enigma,” Miryam said. “He carries himself as a noble, yet says that he comes from humble beginnings and claims no real kinship with either sect of elves. His magic is different than any I’ve encountered. I am unnerved.”

“My magic is different, too, is it not?” Erafen asked, to which her friend nodded. “We are products of our lives. You were strange to me when we first met, Miry. These concerns you have, though, I understand. He lets little of himself come to the surface. Private people, those who keep more to themselves, are harder to understand to one as social and friendly as you.”

Miryam let herself be convinced. “I reckon you’re right,” she finally said. “I trust _you_ , so I will trust your word as well. He merely breaks all molds I’ve ever known elves to fit, but you do, too.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, _falon_ ,” Erafen said, teasing. “And I should have someone draw you a relaxing bath. You should rest.”

“Indeed!” the Herald agreed. “I am forever in your debt.”

“I may hold you to that,” Erafen said with a wink, and with that, she left, expression lighter than she truly felt. In fact, the conversation brought up a few of her own concerns about her mentor. After their conversation on the pier a week earlier, he’d been distant, though still polite. When the journey to the Storm Coast came up, he was ready with the dawn to leave. She’d wanted to tell him of her experience in the Fade, of meeting the Dread Wolf, but the chance was gone.

Erafen stopped to ask a young servant to prepare a bath for her friend, as promised, making sure the young elf knew it was a request and not an order. It was odd to her, giving orders to children of her kind, but no less than when she used her authority as First to her Keeper. As the young one ran off to prepare things, she frowned, again reminded of her hopes for her kin.

As she stepped outside, she noticed Sera talking to Solas. The younger elf stood with her hands on her hips and blatantly sticking her tongue out at the older man, and he merely looked aloof and regarded Sera as one would an unruly child. Erafen laughed to herself; relations between the two were turning more towards how an older wiser sibling might see a reckless youth. It was… cute.

She approached carefully, unsure if Solas would retreat or if Sera would give her grief. She needn’t have worried over either.

“ _Lethallan_ ,” Solas said, expression warming.

“What’d he call you? I can deck ‘im if ya want,” Sera offered, and it was so serious that Erafen laughed despite her prior anxiety.

“It means ‘kinswoman’, or perhaps akin to ‘cousin’,” Erafen explained. “I like it.” She looked from Sera to Solas, giving him a shy smile of her own.

“Oh, elfy shite, got it,” Sera complained. "You two are always speaking your weird elfy nonsense when yer together."

"We are keeping an ancient language alive," Solas said, though with less irritation than Erafen expected.

"Why not use words that _mean_ something?" Sera asked.

"We are. Just because they mean nothing to you doesn't mean they mean nothing to us. And as you notice, I don't speak Elvhen to you," Erafen said, nudging the younger woman.

"Fine fine, I get it, Sera's thinkin' only of Sera or somethin'," Sera said, getting the hint. "Big selfish me."

"Sera is being Sera," Solas said simply. "And we were discussing her role as Red Jenny."

"He's on about me doing bigger an' better with the whole thing, an' none of that's sounding too good to me. I just like poking holes at the nobility," Sera explained. "Lop off one head, another one'll grow back, maybe bigger an' uglier."

"And she doesn't know that. It could be far kinder," Solas said.

Erafen gave him a questioning look. "Or it could be worse. Look at our own history. How well have the Dalish fared without nobility among us? Centralized leadership of some sort, anyway."

"The Dalish have survived, even if it has been difficult. I will grant them that," Solas said. "Elves in Alienages are subject to human nobility," he added as a counter.

"But it is not _elven_ ," Erafen replied. "We should be able to govern ourselves."

"Ugh, you two!" Sera interjected. "Can't go a mark without makin' every-damn-thing about elves. Why not just be people?"

"A common ancestry, a common language, a common culture: those are what make a society. Assimilation destroys that cohesion," Solas began.

" **THHHHPT** ," Sera replied with her tongue out. "I have no idea what you two are on about. I need a drink. Or a piss. Or both. Right, drink first, then piss." She rolled her eyes. "You two are all elfy together. Should just go off and fuck in the moonlight or somethin'. Rebuild your empire or somethin'." She stomped off, heading towards the tavern, leaving Solas amused and Erafen a brilliant crimson.

"There's an idea," Solas said, tone light.

Erafen choked, sending herself into a coughing fit. "Solas, really?!" she managed.

He laughed, patting her back gently to ease the coughing. "There, there, I was merely playing along."

"Humor?" Erafen said, straightening up. "From the Prince of Grim Fatalism?"

"It has been known to happen," he replied, still amused. "And you are starting to resemble an elf again instead of a beet."

She laughed in spite of her embarassment, eyes damp from her coughing. “ _Isala samahl , lethallin._ " Her head shook, hair falling in her face, but her smile faded a touch when Solas reached to brush her hair from her eyes, giving her a curious look.

"Indeed, why I was willing to provoke it. Even as much as fighting and talking," he told her. "Come, we shall miss lunch if we linger too long.”

——

That night. Erafen returned to the Fade, trying to find the brazier she lit with the aid of the Dread Wolf. Surely it would appear if she willed it so, but it did not. She was aware, however, of that familiar presence, and next to her, smaller than he appeared before, was the Wolf. He said nothing, but nudged her, heading forward, and she followed.

Ahead of them, a path appeared, leading towards a mountaintop, and on top was a palace of crystal and earth, spiraling skyward, almost as if it were holding the sky up on its own.

“ _We continue your education_ ,” he told her in Elvhen, and all Erafen could do was comply.


	8. Dorf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erafen finds Dorian, Blackwall, and a lonely rest.

Redcliffe village was indeed an oddity. Erafen had never seen so many mages walking around openly and in one place, but Miryam seemed to take it all in stride. For his part, Solas displayed the expected detached curiosity he always did, and Cassandra was wary, on guard for attack. After the rift they experienced at the town’s front gate, Erafen had no idea what would come next. The young elven man that met them seemed confused by their presence, even though Miryam insisted the Grand Enchanter invited them.

“This is the first I’ve seen you use that mark,” Erafen commented as they walked.

“It never gets less strange,” Miryam told her, looking at her hand for a moment. The mark was still a brilliant emerald in color, reminding Erafen of her dreams of the Fade.

“I’d imagine not. I wonder if you’ll still have it after the Breach is sealed,” the elf remarked.

“That depends on the magic that created it, if the Breach and the mark are tied together, or if one is independent of the other,” Solas told them from the side.

“At least it’s stopped killing you,” Cassandra said from just behind them. “Knowing what I know now, it would be regrettable losing someone so capable.”

“Thanks, I think,” Miryam responded, giving Erafen a secret look. The elf grinned broadly in return. Her friend did say how roughly she’d been treated in her first meeting with the Seeker.

“I see the tavern ahead,” Solas said, indicating with a tilt of his head.

“This is it,” their guide called out.

The Gull and Lantern was unremarkable as far as taverns go, having a raised area towards the back for tables and a bustling customer base made up of almost strictly mages. The elf guiding them moved off to speak to a short-haired older elven woman, one who wore fine robes but a sad expression.

Miryam approached to discuss things with Fiona, but as conversation progressed, it was clear to all that whoever it was at Val Royeaux who spoke with the Herald was not the Grand Enchanter. Fiona was baffled, Miryam fretted, and Erafen could see an expression of suspicion on her mentor. Solas merely shot her a look, a silent entreaty to remain silent and observe.

As it turns out, Fiona indentured her people to a Tevinter magister, one Gereon Alexius. Before they could learn much more, the man himself and his son Felix entered, and he pulled Miryam aside to begin negotiations for use of the mages.

“How can her word bind to the other mages?” Erafen wondered quietly to Solas.

“They blindly follow, put their trust in her, and so she has ruined them,” he replied, tone sharp and angered.

Erafen fell silent, looking the magister over. He wore expensive clothes of crimson linen and leather, trimmed in fine fabrics and furs. He was well-built, much older, and carried himself with the arrogance of one accustomed to getting his way. His son Felix, she thought, seemed far kinder and personable, wearing a yellow that suited his dark complexion. He was a handsome fellow, she thought, for a human.

The discussions were barely begun before Felix stumbled back in. Miryam, ever kind and concerned, turned to the young man only to have him collapse in her arms, apologizing profusely. The older human, concerned for his son, nearly leapt from his seat in an effort to assist Felix, and muttered apologies and excuses for a later discussion. With a call to Fiona, they were out and away.

Miryam released the fist she held, revealing parchment with expertly written words. “My life is in danger,” she said, reading it aloud. “I’m to go to the Chantry and meet Felix later.”

“It is a trap,” Cassandra said with certainty.

“I don’t get the impression that Felix is like his father,” Erafen said. “If it’s a trap, we’re more than equipped to deal with it.”

“I concur,” Solas said. “We stand ready, whatever you choose.”

That seemed to settle Miryam’s mind. “We take our time, then we’ll head there. Keep it casual.”

Once it was settled, the group loitered a bit. Miryam seemed to attract the ire of another mage who apparently knew her from the Ostwick Circle, and Erafen accidentally recruited a Tranquil for the Inquisition. As they gathered intelligence from inside the tavern and those nearby outside, it seemed fewer and fewer of the mages agreed with Fiona’s decision.

A few marks later, they did indeed approach the Chantry, Miryam leading the way in. They were greeted by the sounds of a struggle; the green crystalline shape hovering in midair drowned the stone walls in the same sickly shade, demons hovering around it. The one struggling was a young human, his clothes and darker skin marking him as one not from Ferelden, swinging his staff flamboyantly as he cast lightning.

“Ah, you showed up,” he told them. “Do lend a hand, will you?”

With no time for introductions or questions, the group immediately entered the fray, burning and freezing and slashing through whatever Fade-spawned creature attacked them. When it was all said and done, there were expectant turns towards the man standing there brushing invisible dust from his well-dressed shoulder.

As it turned out, the newcomer was from Tevinter, one Dorian Pavus, and even if Erafen wanted to distrust him, there was something instantly likable about him. Maybe it was his manners or his humor, certainly not the self-absorbed attitude, but as he told his tale of escape, she felt there was something unsaid, but not malicious. When Felix arrived and explained about the cult his father was involved in, Erafen was convinced.

“I won’t be waiting around, so do signal when you’ll be visiting Alexius,” Dorian told them. “And Felix, try not to get killed.”

“I’ll try,” Felix said, shaking his head. He watched Dorian leave through a side door, and cleared his throat. “He’s genuine. I know none of you know me, only what you’ve seen of my father, but I beg you trust me in this: if he succeeds, we are all in significant trouble.”

——

“And that is why you must remain behind,” Miryam told Erafen.

“I understand it, Miry, but I don’t like it,” Erafen replied, almost scowling.

“I need someone I trust remaining with my advisors in case… in case I do not return,” Miryam said.

"I'm surprised we're not immediately returning," Cassandra pointed out. "With so urgent a situation, can we afford a side trip?"

"The Grey Wardens could be tremendous aid," Miryam countered. "At the very least, this shall set Leliana's mind at ease. I did intend to come to him first, but the issues with the mages seemed more dire."

"Or contribute to her fears, should we find no Warden," Solas added. "We would be better served leaving them to their business. Surely they have Darkspawn to hunt."

"In this, I must disagree," Erafen spoke up. "If they're to be a problem, we should at least know."

The older elf seemed to consider. "Knowledge is, indeed, power. Very well, I concede."

"And rather quickly for once," Cassandra said drily.

"And you, Seeker, are not curious? With your title, it stands to reason you would be," Solas challenged.

"I am; there are times and places to satisfy curiosity," the warrior told him. "But I yield to the Herald. Surely we can use more intelligence if our quest is fruitful."

"So pleased everyone agrees with me, especially given I've already decided it," Miryam said, sending a long-suffering look to Erafen, who merely shook her head. "We should be close to the location."

"Hold," Erafen said, reaching for her friend's shoulder. "I hear swords. Metal on metal." With that, she took point. Years of living and hunting in the woods gave her the benefit of stealth where the others, perhaps save Solas, were lacking, and so she continued.

She needn't have worried, noting that the sounds came from young conscripts being tutored (loudly) by a tall bearded man. Erafen signaled the others to approach.

"Remember how to carry your shields. You're not hiding; you're holding. Otherwise, it's useless!" The bearded human pointed at the group of young men.

"Blackwall? Warden Blackwall?" Miryam called out as they moved closer.  
The Warden trudged forward, dangerously close to the Herald. "You're not -- How do you know my name? Who sent... aargh!" His shield arm came up, effectively blocking an arrow that almost hit Miryam in the head.

A violent scream sounded from the distance, and Blackwall snapped, "That's it. Help or get out! We're dealing with these idiots first!"

It was truly less a fight and more of an actively violent spat, the bandits attacking being outnumbered by the Inquisition party, the Warden, and his conscripts. Soon, their corpses littered Blackwall's practice yard, and Miryam went right to business, discussing Leliana's concerns with him quietly.

"Even if there was no Blight," Erafen said, "I'm glad he was training these boys to defend themselves. The villagers around here need it."

Cassandra nodded. "We should make sure more of the locals are better defended with the fighting. Of course, if we were to find the strongholds of those leading the mages still fighting..."

"...and the Templars," Erafen interjected.

"And the Templars," Cassandra agreed, "then the Hinterlands may be safe again for the time being."

"We're leaving," Miryam announced, turning to head away from the Warden, but he followed after.

"Hold a moment," he called out, and she turned. "The Divine is dead, and the sky is torn. Events like these, thinking we're absent is almost as bad as thinking we're involved. If you're trying to put things right, maybe you need a Warden. Maybe you need me."

"Then welcome to the Inquisition," Miryam said, reaching to shake the man's hand.

" _Banal, lethallin_?" Erafen asked Solas, standing next to him. He'd been oddly silent during the exchange.

" _Sahlin, banal_ ," he replied obliquely. "We're heading back to camp, it seems."

As the band left the Warden to gather his belongings and leave his home, there was little discussion, but more than a few looks of disappointment and speculation. Here was one Warden, but what of the others? With no answers, Erafen knew their Spymaster would be displeased, but what else could they do?

Dinner that night was not the usual affair of banter and questioning, but held an air of pensive speculation from the group. Miryam clearly had the weight of everyone’s problems on her shoulders, Cassandra mirroring her fears. Solas was again locked behind his own mask, keeping his thoughts internal. Erafen let out a sigh.

“I’m going to sleep,” she said, depositing her dishes in a half-barrel designated for washing. She didn’t wait for good nights, but wandered into the tent she shared with the other elf. Perhaps she might be allowed to ask questions during her lessons in the Fade that night.

That night, Erafen was alone in the Fade.


	9. Vun'in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miryam has valid concerns for the future after confronting Alexius, and Erafen thinks they're warranted.

When Miryam returned from Redcliffe, she looked like a changed woman. She did not stop to talk, did not say hello, said little else, but went to her room and shut herself in. Erafen decided to stay out of her way for a while, let her friend deal with whatever happened in peace until she was ready to discuss it. She busied herself instead with getting to know the new arrival, the Tevinter mage they met in the village a few days earlier.

“You must forgive me,” Dorian said. “I am still becoming accustomed to elves being free here.”

“I’ll try not to be offended,” Erafen snorted, matching his tone.

As the two chatted, she learned Dorian left Tevinter of his own accord, not just because of Alexius, but because of family issues. Erafen realized that Dorian was not what his family expected him to be, an outcast of his own making, just as she was.

“To bring things back to the here and now, you may wish to check in on our dear Miryam before too terribly long. Our trip into the future seems to have shaken her,” Dorian said, almost casually.

“The future? What’s this?” Erafen wondered.

“Oh, did I not mention? Alexius sent us into the future. It was ghastly,” the human told her, and gave her an overview of what they saw, including seeing Solas and Cassandra in a cloud of red lyrium and what became of Leliana. He paused, seeing Erafen look nauseous. “Don’t fret so much; we’ve prevented it and are armed with far more information than we had prior.”

“Are you completely mad? Or perhaps just heartless?” Erafen asked the human, and he had the good grace to be taken aback. “Perhaps this was expected for you, but Miryam has been in a Circle tower most of her life or else among her noble family. She has nothing that would prepare her mind for seeing the people she cares about tortured and then dying for her.”

Dorian was quiet for a moment, then his voice lowered and tone turned sincere. “I did not consider such. Please don’t mistake me; I was quite unprepared for what we saw, but to me, it wasn't real. Acknowledging it as such would have been madness.”

Erafen let out a breath. “I’m sorry. It just seemed like… like it wasn't important to you.”

“It doesn't exist anymore. We have information as a result, and _that_ is important,” Dorian told her, almost gentle in his tone (though not lacking the superiority). “Perhaps your friend merely needs time to adjust. I’m sure she’ll come to realize the same. She does seem to be an intelligent reasonable sort.”

“Maybe,” Erafen replied. “But emotions have little to do with intelligence or reason.”

Dorian laughed. “An astute observation!”

Erafen smiled despite her irritation. She was starting to understand a few things about the Tevinter mage in their short discussion. He seemed superficial, yes, but she was positive there lay something deeper under his well-manicured exterior. Certainly he was fascinating and full of experiences Erafen thought she could learn from. In some respects, Dorian reminded her of Vivienne, only approachable.

“I think I’ll go see if Miry will talk, then,” she told Dorian. “And… welcome to the Inquisition.”

——

Miryam, as it turned out, kept herself shut in the rest of the day, but did come out the next morning with a genuine smile and an increased sense of purpose. She carried herself a little taller, spoke with more authority, and Erafen realized that the future her friend saw must have increased her motivation.

“It’s changed my perspective,” Miryam told her as they walked, inspecting the camp of the rebel mages. “There’s more going on here than just this Breach, some big hand behind it, and I must stop it somehow.”

“'We', _falon_ ,” Erafen insisted. “You are not alone in this.”

“Of course,” Miryam said. “I can never forget the part everyone plays. And you, my friend, I rely on you so much.”

“I wasn't a captive in that future, was I?” Erafen inquired.

Miryam’s expression faltered. “According to Solas, in the future, you died. He would not say how, and I didn't press.”

“At least you have prevented it,” Erafen said.

Before Miryam could say anything, a booming voice called out, “ **BOSS**!” loudly. The Iron Bull approached, a scroll in hand. “And Mini-Boss,” he added, nodding to Erafen. “So you’ve made the _Ben-Hassrath_ nervous with recruiting those mages. Of course, you know how my people are about magic.”

“Bull, I adore you, but I don’t at all like how your people are about magic, period,” Myriam said.

“What does this mean? Surely there’s a reason you’re telling us now,” Erafen asked.

“Just saying, they’re nervous. Twitchy. I need to be able to reassure them somehow,” the massive Qunari clarified.

Miryam huffed once, looking as if she might debate the idea, and then decided. “We’re going to close the Breach in three nights’ time. I want to give the mages time to settle, give us all time to prepare, and then we’re going to go for it.”

“That fast?” Erafen wondered.

“I don’t see what waiting longer would accomplish,” Miryam said. “It must not grow stronger.”

“All right, Boss. I’ll send word, get them off our asses,” Bull said, an odd combination of relief and skepticism clear in his expression. “If anyone can do it, you can.”

“Well, that’s what the mark does, right?” Miryam said, laughing mirthlessly. “‘Fen, tell Solas for me. I’ll talk with Vivienne and Dorian, given they've taken to debating over Antivan brandy. We may need the four of you to be a buffer.”

“Of course,” Erafen said. “I’ll get on that. Bull, always a pleasure.”

He dipped his horned head in the elf’s direction. “Not nearly enough,” he teased her with a wink.

Blushing and flustered, Erafen stammered another excuse for herself and darted off, looking for her mentor.

Solas wasn't at his temporary house, but with searching, Erafen found him again at the pier over the frozen lake. He sat still, back straight and legs folded, his magic moving around him as if it were wisps from the Fade. She was transfixed for a moment. His magic always seemed like a gentle manipulation, while hers was more of a harmony with those energies. Certainly not the flashy twists and turns of Dorian or Vivienne’s iron hand.

“Solas,” she called out gently, and instantly, the aura faded and he raised a hand, beckoning her to sit next to him. She did so, mimicking his pose.

“You have been busy this morning,” he told her. “Will Miryam head to the Breach soon?”

“In three days,” Erafen told him. “You’ll be going when it’s closed, won’t you?”

“We shall see,” Solas replied. “More is going on here than any of us know, not with those visions of the future our Herald has returned with. You seem relieved.”

“I am. You’re the first person I've been able to be me around. Even with Miry, there’s still things I have to hold back on,” Erafen explained.

“So purely selfish reasons?” he returned, and Erafen looked at him. He wasn't smiling, even if his tone teased.

“We all benefit from your knowledge and skills,” she amended.

“Ah, indeed. As we do yours,” he conceded. “I admit, I would miss you as well. You have surprised me. I have not met another who knows themselves and shows an understanding of the world. You have wisdom beyond your years.”

“Flattery?” Erafen asked.

“Not at all, and you know it,” Solas chided. “I still believe you would be better suited to the power that mark provides, but I must now admit that there are advantages to you being as you are.”

“I wouldn't want it, but… well, I have to do what I can,” she said.

“There are things I wouldn't be able to share with you if you were the Herald,” he told her. “We would not be able to steal moments like these. You would be beyond what or who you are, and be whatever others wanted to see in you.”

“Steal moments?” Erafen wondered.

“Private moments,” he amended.

“Private moments,” she repeated. “You make that sound almost romantic.”

Solas laughed, the sound low and deep. "If you are to believe most of Haven, we are already involved. Even the apostate elves are worth discussing if there is scandal to be had."

"It'll keep people off my back," Erafen said, shaking her head. "There are already those trying to woo me for the sake of getting close to Miry. Opportunistic arseholes." She snorted.

"That is to be expected. You are close to a growing power in Thedas, you're powerful in your own right, and beautiful," Solas told her seriously.

"I... do you think so?" she asked, turning again to regard the other elf, finding him looking at her, eyes searching.

"I do," Solas said, voice low. "Any who says otherwise clearly has poor vision."

Erafen found herself unable to speak, wondering momentarily how she'd missed the shade of blue in her mentor's eyes. She swallowed hard, finding herself unable to move, either forward or away in retreat. He didn't move; it seemed as if he left any action to her. Breath after breath, she willed her nervousness away, and decided, moving forward.

"There you both are!" a familiar voice called out from behind them. Erafen quickly moved away, blushing to the tip of her ears, looking back to see Iron Bull's lieutenant, Krem, approaching. "I'm not interrupting anything?"

"No, we were merely discussing our present situation," Solas said smoothly, revealing nothing in his manner.

"What can we do for you, Krem?" Erafen asked, praying the Tevinter mercenary didn't notice her state.

"Apparently there's some sort of discussion up at the Chantry," Krem replied, shrugging in his armor. "You two're wanted in the War Room. I was closest out, so I came to get you."

"Thank you," Erafen said. Solas stood next to her, offering his hand, which she took gratefully.

"Right, come on then," Krem said. "Boss has me sitting in with him. Looks like things're getting heated. The Herald and your Commander got into it over the mages here, but they were civil when I headed to get you. Looks like we might not be waiting long to make a move to the Breach."

"Three days, so Miryam told me," Erafen said.

"They're aimin' for tonight," Krem stated. "The Nightingale's little songbirds have been singin' in her ear, makin' her nervous. When _she's_  nervous, everyone gets nervous."

"Then let us make haste," Solas said, and the trio turned to head towards the Chantry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the upcoming chapter names will be taken from this link:  
> http://fenxshiral.tumblr.com/post/106480664863/good-morning-good-night-in-elvish
> 
> Again, I thank fenxshiral for the assistance and use of his work. For more of Project Elvhen, follow this link:
> 
> http://fenxshiral.tumblr.com/tagged/project+elvhen/


	10. Dhea’him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit short, but it's for a good reason. Also, not only did the Breach plan get accelerated, but so did some more personal discussion.

As it turned out, closing the Breach wasn't quite the affair everyone expected it to be. The meeting among the Inner Circle and those related turned out, Cullen and Miryam were at each other over the mages, though it came across as rather polite and vaguely passive aggressive jabs. Cullen rightly argued that the Templars wouldn't take such a thing lightly, and Miryam finally conceded on that, suggesting that they do the deed that very night, though she wasn't entirely serious.

Fiona's mages, however, were fresh and rested after a night of sleep, and their aid was promised immediately, provided the Inquisition maintain their state as free persons. The whole event progressed so quickly, Erafen thought her head might spin on her neck. It wasn't until she was pulling her own new armor on that it occured to her they were walking eyes-open into terrible danger.

"This is madness," she muttered to herself, but she agreed. If those involved were ready, then waiting served no purpose.

"I have absolutely no idea what the actual plan is," Dorian commented pleasantly, coming to join Erafen when she left her temporary dwelling.

"That's shite and you know it," Erafen teased, trying to overcome her anxiety.

"Well, I suppose all of the mages here will channel towards Miryam as she waggles her fingers at the big green tear in the sky," he said casually.

"Something like that, with us four providing support for her directly," Erafen replied.

"Well, we do make an attractive set if your mentor would dress up a little," the other mage stated.

"Solas is fine as he is," she replied, her tone even.

"My magic is more than up to the task," came a comment from the side, and Solas approached, accompanied by Vivienne.

"Even if we disagree on our views of mages, magic, and the Circles... _and_ our apostate friend's lamentable lack of fashion sense, we are a formidable force," Vivienne said agreeably. "In this, we will not fail, not when so many rely on our success."

"Especially Miryam," Erafen said, sending a worried look over to her friend, standing over with Cullen and Cassandra, exchanging last minute suggestions and ideas. As if realizing she was mentioned, the Herald looked over, waving them all closer. The four mages approached.

"As we discussed," Miryam began, "Cullen will have those Templars who've joined us standing guard around the Breach. His idea." She smiled up at the former Templar, and he merely rubbed the back of his neck.

"The ability to nullify magic may prove useful if anything spawns from the Breach, or if there are energies uncontroled when it closes," he explained.

"I would have our non-mages stand ready as well. Sera, Blackwall, Cassandra, Bull and his Chargers. I don't trust that it might not 'fight back', spawn more creatures as the rifts do," Miryam added. "The four of you, as discussed, will provide a channel for the Breach's energies."

"And a buffer," Erafen added. "We can't have you fried before you fufill your great destiny."

Miryam finally cracked a grin. "Mm-hm. Well, destiny or not, we've work to do."

"Agreed," Cullen said, and he drew his sword, signalling the dozen Templars standing ready to begin marching.

  
As they began across the bridge leading towards the Temple of Sacred Ashes, Erafen let the back of her hand brush against her mentor's. Her intention was merely support, but Solas reached his slender fingers around her hand and squeezed briefly, releasing her in the next instant.

The only sound to be heard was howling wind and the stomping of armored feet. Anticipation flowed through all as they walked the path towards the nearly destroyed temple. There were no words needed, not until they arrived and Cassandra and Fiona led the mages into their formation, building a semi-circle around the pulsating light of the Breach.

The four channeling mages all produced their staves, standing behind where Miryam regarded her boldly glowing left hand. She looked behind her, nodding, and faced the portal.

"Mages!" Cassandra signaled.

Dorian, Vivienne, and Erafen stood in line behind Miryam, staves in front of them, waiting for the energy to be directed their way. Solas turned to the gathered helpers.

"Focus past the Herald," he told them. "Let her will draw from you!" He turned, staff up to signal. Miryam, just beyond them, approached the Breach, hand extended as it crackled with power. He lowered his staff, joining the other three mages in line, and those of Fiona's group all knelt, staves slamming into the ground as they focused their power.

Miryam pushed through the energies flowing from the Breach and thrust her hand towards it, a burst of power so vivid, so much more massive than what Erafen saw outside Redcliffe, that it astounded all. The four mages on channel duty, in perfect sync, let their auras mesh to better catch anything gone astray, carefully helping to bolster the Herald's own power. Even with that, the Breach resisted, but it was for nothing. It closed with a snap, sending waves of its power washing over those gathered. Even with the efforts of Solas, Erafen, Vivienne, and Dorian, many were knocked completely off their feet.

Cassandra pulled herself up, rushing past the four who were still shaking off the immediate effects of a reaction headache from the magic. Erafen opened her eyes to see the Seeker approaching Miryam, who knelt where she was, holding her own staff.

"You did it," Cassandra said, awe evident. She placed a hand on Miryam's shoulder.

"Not without all of you," Miryam replied,standing shakily. From Cassandra's expressoin, the Herald was giving her a broad grin, confirmed when she turned to flash it at those behind her. "I believe celebrations are in order!"

"We may have to tend to some concussions," Erafen said, though she couldn't help smiling in relief herself.

"Then tend away!" Miryam told her. "I think I need a restorative myself. Or a drink."

\-- --

In the few hours that followed, quiet little Haven errupted into a massive celebration. Wine and ale flowed, food circulated, and all within were joyous in the wake of their success. Erafen sat outside the tavern, watching through the open door as Sera and Iron Bull exchanged drinks and insults. A familiar presence settled next to her.

"Are you not going to celebrate?" she asked Solas, nudging him gently.

"Not until I am certain there is something to celebrate. This seems... too early. Something bothers me that I can't put a name on," he told her. "Believe me, I only wish I were being merely fatalistic."

"If something _does_ happen, then, we have you thinking clearly," Erafen granted. "You are so different from anyone else I've met. You claim humble origins, but you don't act like it. Did your time in the Fade affect you so?"

"I have learned that one not need nobility to carry themselves with pride, to act with conviction, and to talk with authority. Nobility, slaves, all of it: it is a social construct, and any construct may be torn down when enough are tired of it," Solas explained. "One doesn't need the Fade if one knows history."

"The failing of my people," Erafen said after a lingering moment. "We claim to know history, but we only have stories passing off as such. Those stories can be comfort, but clinging so tightly..."

"Nothing changes until you make it change," Solas replied. "And tonight, here, we have made things change. Only time will tell if it is truly for the better."

Erafen had no response save to nod gently, watching the revelers below. She stiffened when she felt a finger on her cheek, tracing the lines of Mythal's branches.

"Why Mythal?" Solas asked.

"There is no fiercer defender than a mother," Erafen told him. "That is all."

"You remind me of her," Solas said absently. "A strong defender, one who cares so fully for her people despite the differences. Well-chosen."

"There are those who would say I'd just as well have taken _vallaslin_ for Fen-Harel," she told him, turning again to face her mentor so that her cheek rested in his hand.

"If you could change it, would you?" he wondered.

"And be branded a trickster and traitor when I only wish to help?" she retorted.

"You would be in good company, an accurate portrayal," Solas replied.

Before Erafen could question him, a horn sounded in the distance, and she pulled away, rising to her feet. The revelers below didn't immediately respond, but a second blow and accompanying chime from the Chantry had the music and drinking at a standstill.

From the gate, the pair could see Cullen running up, troops behind him.

"Forces approaching! To arms!" he cried out,spurring the residents into almost immediate sobriety.

"To the gates," Solas told Erafen, leaping to action, staff drawn. The two made it down just in time to see Cassandra and Miryam joining them, the rest of their group trailing along.

Cullen filled them in, describing the force reported coming over the mountain in the near distance.

"Under what banner?" Josephine asked.

"None," Cullen said, ignoring the cry of surprise from the ambassador.

The gate shook, a glow spreading underneath the bottom crack. "I can't help if you don't let me in!" a young male voice shouted.

Miryam frowned, and worked to open the gate, accepting the help offered from those nearest to her. They were greeted by the corpses of Templars surrounding one still standing and walking... until a blade severed his spine. The armored form fell, and behind him was a slender man with matted hair, pale skin and dressed in patchwork clothes. His face was half-obscured by one of the most ridiculously wide-brimmed hats Erafen had ever seen.

"I'm Cole," he said. "I came to warn you. To help. People are coming to hurt you." His expressoin shifted, vaguely sheepish. "You probably already know."

"What is this? What's going on?" Miryam asked.

"The Templars come to kill you," Cole replied darkly.

"Templars?! This is the Order's response?" Cullen shouted, walking towards the young man. Cole practically hid behind Miryam in response.

"Red Templars," Cole clarified. "They joined the Elder One. You know of him." He turned to point. "There."

A Templar stood, armor an inverse of what others knew of Templars. He was clad in the blood color of Red Lyrium, accented in black metal of onyx and iron. Behind him, however, emerged a malformed gigantic mass of a man, red lyrium jutting from his thin-stretched flesh.

"I know that man," Cullen said, "but this Elder One..."

"He's very angry that you took his mages," Cole told Miryam.

"I need a plan," Miryam stated, looking around.

Cullen, ever the commander, took charge then, rallying the mages, troops, and former Templars under his command, ordering engagement. "Herald, our trebuchets need to be manned," he told her.

"On it," Miryam said.

"Half of us one way, the other half forward," Erafen suggested, and agreeing, both groups split to help defend the troops focused on their projectiles.

Magic, blades, arrows, and blood all moved freely that night, the snow turning crimson along their paths. A moment of inspiration sent a boulder from a trebuchet into the mountainside, burying the Red Templars still approaching in the distance under tons of ice. Erafen wanted to cheer with the others, but she knew better, not with the way this evening had gone.

And that’s when, as the humans say, the other shoe dropped.


	11. Era'vun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very dark night falls, and Erafen is left with questions.

Erafen woke to pain and cold, both in abundance. Her broken foot, now splinted and bandaged, throbbed despite the healing salve on it. She let out a whimper, and a gentle hand touched her forehead.

“Shh, _An'eth_ ,” Solas told her.

“Miryam?” Erafen asked.

“ _Ase'hamin_ ,” he assured her.

Erafen settled back down, letting out a sigh. The escape from Haven was harrowing, to say the least, and the memory of dragonfire and falling stone returned the trembling fear she felt during the escape. Again the gentle hand pressed to her forehead.

“Mother Giselle believes that with continued application of healing magic, your broken foot will be intact in a few days,” he told her. “And your tagalong has a healthy appetite. How you rescued a cat while escaping baffles me.”

“Help me to sit, please,” Erafen requested, and Solas complied, letting her lean against his shoulder. “What did I miss?”

Solas filled her in. “Apparently, after Chancellor Roderick suggested the way out, Miryam did go to face the dragon. I’m sure you recall. She was met by that misshapen man we saw with that Templar. His name is Corypheus.”

“Yes,” Erafen said, closing her eyes at the memory. “The dragon that attacked Haven was his, was it not?”

“Cole believes it to be an archdemon,” the older elf stated. “I may be inclined to agree, but they are typically accompanied by a Blight.”

“Maybe this Corypheus is a Blight on his own,” Erafen said, reaching to pinch the bridge of her nose. “You said Miryam was found?”

“Alive, minorly frostbitten, but well. Mother Giselle has been tending to her, and she’s had constant attention from other mages’ healing,” he told her.

“How many were lost?” Erafen asked, voice cracking.

“Too many,” Solas answered. “Your friend Minaeve was among them.”

Erafen choked out a sob, her hand covering her eyes, and the despair and exhaustion of the event took her. She cried then, letting out her frustration, her grief, her anger, but also her relief at her friend’s survival. Solas continued letting her know who did live: the entire Inner Circle and Leadership of the Inquisition was intact, meaning the rest could heal. She barely registered it, however, until a fuzzy warmth nuzzled her free hand.

“And as I said, your tagalong survived,” Solas added.

At her hand was a kitten, not a small one, but at least a half-year into its life. Erafen remembered: she heard it mewling as she left her building, trapped between its dead siblings. It took all of a minute to pick it up and put it in her side bag. She laughed brokenly, scooping the little one up.

“I couldn’t leave her,” she told Solas. “I don’t know. It was foolish.”

“You are far kinder than you admit sometimes,” he told her gently. “Foolish or not, it is done. You are a defender and protector, blessed of Mythal, as you are marked.”

Erafen shook her head, but said nothing in response. “I want to sleep some more.”

“Of course,” Solas told her, and moved a bit to help her lay back down. The kitten curled up on her chest, purring under the covers he pulled over the two. “ _Hamin, lethallan_.”

She fell to dreams easily, but the Fade around her was chaos, reflecting not only her mood but that of those around her. Despair demons lingered in the distance, but all allowed near were spirits, those uncorrupted by those virulent emotions. Protecting her was the one figure she hadn’t seen in a week.

“ _Are you truly Fen’Harel?_ ” she asked him, the _Elvhen_ coming more naturally in the Fade.

“ _What do you believe, da’len?_ ” he asked in return.

“ _I don’t know what to believe_.” She let out a sigh, and let the spirits gathered talk to her, listening to their words with only half-hearted attention. There was something mentioned, however, something that made her lift her head and look past the collection of demons and spirits outside of the Wolf’s protective presence.

“ _Tarasyl'an Te’las,_ ” a spirit whispered, repeated by a few others in agreement.

She could see it then, in the distance, the crystal spires reaching into the sky as if it were holding the place up. As she watched, it shifted to stone overlaid with the same crystal spires, and then again it morphed into an ancient castle, no less glorious for the change in style.

“The Place Where the Sky is Kept,” Erafen repeated, her gaze transfixed. Her otherworldly companion growled in acknowledgement.

“ _As present a feature in the Fade as the humans’ Black City,_ ” the Wolf told her.

“ _If one looks for it,_ ” Erafen stated, and she felt agreement from the Wolf.

——

It was difficult to tell how much time passed, but when Erafen awoke, she was alone at her cot. It wasn’t the absence that woke her, however, but the singing, voices rising above the howl of the wind surrounding the camp. It was a hymn, one she’d heard the humans in the Chantry singing, but never so loud and with so much emotion behind it. She rose, catching sight of Miryam standing, singing with the others. When the singing died down, Solas approached the Herald, pulling the woman aside.

“Well, I’m glad to see you awake, my dear,” Vivienne said from behind her, voice tired. “It seems our work is far from done.”

“First Enchanter,” Erafen said wearily. “If you’re going to lecture me…”

“Whatever gave you that idea?” Vivienne asked, taking a seat on the stool Solas once occupied. “Our views differ, indeed, but this new enemy, this Corypheus, he threatens far more than Circles or the Chantry.”

“It was his future that Miryam saw with Dorian,” Erafen said. “He’s the Elder One.”

“He’s going to get his Elder teeth knocked in when I see him,” a booming voice stated, coming to join them. The Iron Bull seemed as exhausted as they were, and he thrust a steaming mug into Erafen’s hand. “Here, kid.”

Erafen muttered her thanks, taking a drink of the concoction. It was broth, thick and meaty, but also loaded with what she recognized as whiskey. It warmed her immediately.

“Some of us have been talking,” Vivienne continued, nodding to Bull. “We have decided that our Herald needs to take a more active role of leadership. I will be discussing it with Cullen, Josephine, and Leliana. Cassandra is already in agreement, as are the rest. You were the last we needed, darling.”

“I always thought Miryam was the head,” Erafen said plainly, drinking some more of the boozy broth.

“Damn right, she is,” Bull said. “But, I mean, if there was a heart in the group, it’s you. She checks up on us, stays friendly, but you’re here when she’s gone. She could do it without you, but not nearly as well.”

“So you want me to remain, to stay her Aide,” Erafen said.

“Her Right Hand of sorts, just as Cassandra was for the Divine,” Vivienne told her. “There are things people tell you far more easily than they tell her, my dear.”

“We’re behind making her Inquisitor,” Bull said.

“Then I support her,” Erafen said. “You needn’t have bothered asking. I only fear what putting me in a more public position may do to her reputation.”

“Darling, we had to hear it. You are as much a part of this as we are,” Vivienne admitted. "Do not worry about reputation so much; leave that to me and Josephine."

The elf stared into her mug, thoughtful. “I will be whatever Miryam needs me to be.”

“Good to hear,” Bull said. “Might keep calling you ‘Mini Boss’ if all goes ok.”

‘Fen snorted, taking another drink. “I’m gonna call you ‘Chief’ like Krem does, then.”

Iron Bull leaned back his head, laughing loudly (and frightening a few of the forces nearby). “It’s a deal!”

Despite her exhaustion and depression, Erafen found a smile rising to her lips. She really liked the Qunari, trusting him despite him being an admitted spy. Relaxing, she leaned her head on his shoulder, earning a soft rumble from him. “First, we have to rebuild.”

“There’s tomorrow,” Bull told her, showing a look of surprise at the display of affection.

“Indeed, my dears,” Vivienne said, standing. “Well, I shall tell Cassandra we have a consensus.” Nodding gracefully to the two, she made her way towards the Seeker.

“So now that Vivi’s not here,” Bull said softly, “Gonna tell you no matter how much she talks about working together, that lady has her own agenda.”

“I know,” Erafen said, smiling when her kitten jumped up on her cot.

“Ah, there’s the little one you rescued,” Bull laughed.

“I’m going to name her Bull the Second,” Erafen teased, nudging him. “Wherever we go, we’ll need a mouser. But back to Vivienne, she knows that we all know. We work with that understanding. It’s not a total lack of trust, just… The Game. When one lives it, they can’t not play it.”

“Hmm,” Iron Bull said, nodding. “An excellent description. I may borrow that for my report.”

“So glad to contribute,” ‘Fen snorted, and she returned to her beverage, finishing it off. “Hey, Bull?”

“Hm, Mini Boss?”

“Thanks. I’m glad you’re with us.”

“Well, the ‘Vints and other assorted assholes out there ain’t gonna knock their own faces in,” he joked.

“Some of them are pretty stupid. I wouldn’t be surprised,” Erafen joked in return, earning her another burst of laughter from the Qunari.

“You should see some of the stupid people out there we’ve fought,” Iron Bull stated, and began entertaining Erafen with stories of past fights, soon joined by Krem and a few other of the Chargers. The Tevinter soldier added in a few tales of his own (Erafen tried not to wince at the Sylvan incident), and another of the Chargers, a Dalish simply called 'Dalish' added a few stories of her own.

Erafen hardly noticed the time pass by, and in a moment of laughter, realized there was indeed still hope. As the humans sang earlier, the dawn would come.

 


	12. Era’vhen’an

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here it is. You're welcome. =)
> 
> Also, there will be seriousness approaching.

“This place is massive,” Miryam said, wandering around with her 'First'. It was decided that, given Cassandra and Leliana still maintained their titles, that different terminology be used for Erafen's position.

“Understatement of the year, Inquisitor,” Erafen said. “Skyhold is also aptly named.”

“Stop. No ‘Inquisitor’ from you when it’s just us or friends. I’m still Miry to you,” the woman said.

“But it’s so funny to watch that expression when I say it,” Erafen joked.

“I get enough of that from Sera! She calls me ‘Your Lady Bits’, and I don’t know whether to be appalled or laugh hysterically,” Miryam said mirthfully. “I’m glad we’ve got things rebuilt enough for proper lodging and guests.”

“Everyone’s doing their part,” ‘Fen agreed. “I feel, though, that this is the first time we’ve had a chance to relax. Looks like most of what’s needed is up to work crews.”

Miryam nodded. “Solas has adopted the rotunda under the library. Hasn’t he taken a room to sleep in?”

“He has that couch, though I’ve seen him sleep in his chair,” Erafen told her. “He and I haven’t had much time for discussion,” she lamented. "The new fellow, Cole, has been taking some of his attention as well."

“I think this entire place has been like five Birth Celebration days for him,” Miryam said, rolling her eyes. “He’s been devouring the books as if they were bread and water. ”

Erafen let out a long-suffering sigh. “Yes, and he won’t put them down for any reason. I’d almost suggest you find more reasons to travel just so he gets out. Of course the Fallow Mire seemed not to suit him well.”

“The Fallow Mire suited _no one_ well," Miryam retorted. She looked thoughtful. "You care for him."

“I do. I thought it was mutual,” Erafen admitted.

“Well, then we shall leave him behind on the next trip. Girls’ Quest,” Miryam said. “You, me, Cassandra, and Sera. We’ve more work to do in the Hinterlands, including making sure the Horsemaster makes it here with his steeds and taking out some bandits. We shall have fun without the boys.”

“I do like getting a chance to go with you,” Erafen said, perking up a little. “Are you sure I can afford to leave my duties?”

“Josie and Leliana can pick up the slack, especially since now, like you said, castle repairs are up to work crews,” Miryam said. “It’s settled. You need to get out, and I need your assistance.”

“It’s good to be the Inquisitor,” Erafen teased, earning herself a poke in the arm.

——

As it turned out, Master Dennet was a kind host to the quartet, but there was much he needed done before he could spare the horses or his time. As a result, they were in the Hinterlands on business far longer than intended, killing wolves, hunting down bandits, scouting tower locations, and gathering herbs. Erafen’s knowledge came in handy, and she showed the others how to gather seeds from some of the plants for a garden at Skyhold.

“I thought Haven smelled of horse,” Sera groused, sniffing a little with a sour face. “Don’t mind Dennet, though. Good enough bloke, that one. His wife makes good meat pies.”

“I declare here and now that meat pies are the greatest human invention,” Erafen said, setting the empty tin aside.

“I believe you haven’t seen enough of the cities,” Cassandra told her, amused.

“I’m with Inky here,” Sera said. “Meat pies. And silky underthings.”

“Perhaps we might share some of our medicinal herbs with Mistress Elaina as thanks,” Miryam suggested. “She’ll be giving up her husband to the Inquisition and taking the bulk of the burdens of the farm on her shoulders.”

“Then perhaps we can spare a stipend,” Erafen said. “A little money, some workers, at least a little something to continue assisting her. Perhaps Master Dennet can apprentice Sera as junior horsemistress.”

“Piss off, y’tit!” Sera said, laughing at the jab. She threw a roll at the other elf. “Sooooo, Cassie.”

“And what have I done to earn the attention of Mistress Sera?” Cassandra asked, knowing better than to tell Sera not to call her by the nickname. That would only lead to worse ideas.

“I saw you had some lovely books in yer room. I borrowed the one with the pictures,” Sera continued.

“What are… how did you? I… I don’t know which books you’re speaking of,” Cassandra said, flustered.

“Pictures?” Miryam wondered.

“Lots of _sexy_ pictures,” Sera answered.

“They are books of romance! Poetry!” Cassandra explained, voice rising in pitch.

“You’re a romantic? There’s no harm in that,” Erafen said consolingly. “I believe we all have what Dorian calls ‘guilty pleasures’. You’re entitled.”

“Well, I do not want others to know, especially the Dwarf.” The Seeker poked at the last of her pie.

“Got somethin’ on Miss Soldier!” Sera said with glee. "Wait until I talk to Varric."

“Oh come on, Sera, let Cassandra have her books and poetry,” Miryam insisted. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Sera perked up a bit. “Oh really? Do tell.”

“When we get to Skyhold. Promise,” Miryam said. "Till then, I need your word."

“Uuuugh, fine!” the younger elf finally agreed. “But it better be amazing.”

“I shudder to think of what that might entail,” Cassandra muttered. “Josephine still hasn’t forgiven you for the ‘bucket incident’.”

“That was grand!” Sera exclaimed, giggling more.

Erafen laughed, standing and offering to take the others’ tins one of their runners would return to the Horsemaster’s home. It’d been just over a week since they’d arrived in the Hinterlands, and she was enjoying herself, but it was odd being away from Skyhold. If she were honest with herself, it was odd being away from Solas. She’d come to depend on their conversations, and while those had been limited at Skyhold, but they still happened.

“Stop sulking, Inky, we’re going home,” Sera called out. “You want someone t’pet you, I can indulge.” She waggled her eyebrows.

‘Fen laughed aloud at that. “You’re like the crazy little sister I never had, which is odd since I have a sister. Nothing like you.”

“You’ve never spoken of your family,” Cassandra observed.

The elf sat back down, taking a stick to poke at the fire. “My sister, Eradahl, was Second, now First to Keeper Deshanna. Our father died before 'Dahl was born, in my first year, and our mother only lived to my sixth year.”

“I am sorry for your loss,” Cassandra said sincerely. “But you said your sister is now First?”

“I relinquished my position in favor of working with the Inquisition. In truth, I’ve learned so much that… I don’t think I can go back.” Erafen picked at her nails.

“Good,” Sera declared. “You’re not stuck up and all holy-mighty like them. Don’t scowl like that, Inky, it’s true. You're better than skulking aorund in caves and land-boats.”

“ _Aravel_. And it doesn’t make me miss them less,” the older elf mentioned, upset. “They’re my family, my kin. For all I want things to change for the Dalish, I can't forget my roots, nor can I forget the love I was raised with.”

“You are not alone,” Miryam supplied. “You've been a good friend to all of us, even those you disagree with. Won't you have us as family?”

“While I have never expected to count a Dalish among my good friends, I am proud to do so now,” Cassandra added.

“And you already said I was like an irritating little sister,” Sera added, poking Erafen in the arm.

“Of course, I do,” Erafen said, moved by the sentiment. “I…I’ve long considered you all my family.”

There were pleased smiles all around; even Cassandra seemed appreciative. Sera grinned broadly.

“BAAAAARRRRRUP” the younger elf belched.

“And the moment is gone,” Miryam laughed, the others laughing along with her.

——

  
"Inquisitor, thank the Maker you've returned!" Cullen said by way of greeting when Miryam and Erafen separated from the party as they walked through Skyhold's gates. "Things have been interesting the last few days."

"Without me? I'm hurt," Miryam said. "What happened?"

"We found a dwarf named Edric Cadash, snooping around the War Room," Cullen said.

"I remember a dwarf by that name at the Conclave," Erafen said. "He had a cart outside of the temple to sell lyrium potions and raw lyrium. He was permitted due to need."

"It seems like the best places to set up shop," Cullen said. "And he's been keeping the former Templars in lyrium in Haven."

"There's more," Myriam supposed.

"Indeed," Cullen affirmed. "Leliana informed us three days prior that he was sending reports back to the Carta. A search for him found him at the War Room, presumably inspecting the hole in the hallway wall."

"A Carta spy, _lovely_ ," Miryam said. "Right, I'll examine the evidence and decide what to do with him, but first, I am in need of a bath and a long sleep."

"Of course, Inquisitor," Cullen said. "I only thought you should know right away."

"No, I appreciate it, Cullen," Miryam said. "And please, it's just Miryam when not in front of everyone important."

"All right... Miryam," the man replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, I'll leave you two to your rest." He nodded politely and turned to head in the direction of the practice yard.

Miry sighed. "He's so... I don't know."

"I know what you mean," Erafen said with a nudge. "But go on, you need rest, and so do I. I want to unpack and give these books we recovered to Solas."

"Mmm-hm," Miryam said with a wink.

"Shut it, you!" the elf laughed, and headed inside to wander the stairs to her quarters.

\----

Unpacking was always quick for Erafen; she didn't own very much still and carried less on excursions. She bathed and changed into something more casual: simple tunic and leggings, warm and comfortable. While both were not usual Dalish wear, the style, cut, and embellishment definitely held a Dalish aesthetic. The leggings had been emboirdered to have the pattern of autumn leaves, and the rust-colored tunic itself was form-hugging and cut low in the neck with a pine green cowl stitched to it. She checked her reflection, letting some of her copper braids out to hang in loose waves down her back.

Solas was in the rotunda as usual, but instead of being at his desk, he stood waiting for her. Another mural was half-finished, clearly started close to when Erafen left for the Hinterlands.

" _Aneth ara_ ," he said pleasantly, waving her forward. "You were gone longer than expected."

"There was more to do than anticipated," Erafen explained. "I hope you aren't busy. Rather hoped we could talk."

"Of course. Let us do so, preferably somewhere more interesting than this," he replied with a nod, and he led her off.

Erafen wasn't sure how long they walked, but they approached the gates of Haven, finding it intact but empty. She was confused. "Why here?"

"Haven is familiar. It will always be important to you," Solas replied, stopping just ahead of her.

"True," she agreed, and started again after him, heading into the Chantry and down into the dungeon.

"You were in the cell there, unconscious, while I tended to the Herald," he continued, indicating the bars. "I was obsessed, searching the Fade for clues, and found nothing. Cassandra suspected duplicity, threatening to have me executed as an apostate if I did not produce results. More than once, she asked me what I knew of you."

"Which was nothing then," Erafen said.

"I wrote you off as a simple Dalish," Solas admitted. He turned around, heading back to the stairs. "My concern was the Inquisitor and the mark on her hand. I told myself that I would stay long enough to try and seal one more rift. No magic would touch it."

"You sound disheartened at that," she told him.

"I was," he confirmed. "And then Miryam woke up and joined us fighting the demons, and on a hunch, I held her hand to the rift. It closed, sealed with a gesture. It was the first sign of hope since this began."

  
Erafen blinked as they stepped into the light. "I see." The continued in silence until returning to the small block their dwellings were house on. "I was still in the dungeon," she finally continued.

"You were," Solas said. "But you were proven innocent and released. You could have returned to the Dalish, but you stayed. Few of your kind would volunteer to aid a group of human strangers, yet you not only did so, but you inquired of others, learned ways foreign to you, made friends with those who your kin would have chased away from their camps with arrows and knives."

"And you only approached me when I was half-drunk from Qunari ale," Erafen teased. Unbidden, she saw the memory, the engimatic elf standing at her side while she willed the room to stop undulating as if she were in an _aravel_ on rocky terrain.

Reality snapped back into place as Solas spoke again. "You spoke of knowledge, of being more than you were, of helping the People be great again. For all of the hope I felt when Miryam closed the rift, you were different. With you, I felt the whole world change."

Erafen turned, seeing Solas genuinely smiling at her, and she blushed. "Felt the whole world change?"

"A figure of speech."

"I'm aware of the metaphor," Erafen told him. "I'm more interested in 'felt'."

His expression, for once, turned completely unguarded. "You change... everything."

"Sweet talker."

They fell into silence, mutually unsure of the next step or what to do with the revalation. Erafen decided she was tired of it. She turned on her heel, reached for Solas, and kissed him lightly, almost chaste. He didn't immediately respond, and chagrined, she stepped back, about to mutter an apology.

She never had a chance. A small smile, a shake of his head -- all the warning Erafen was to receive until she was pulled close to the taller elf, finding her breath stolen by his kiss. When he deepened it, she was content to let him in, sharing breath and desire in one.

When they parted, eyes met, and Solas moved in again, but only seconds in, he withdrew, stepping back a few paces.

"We shouldn't. It isn't right, not even here."

"This isn't Haven," Erafen said, recognition dawning on her.

"Where did you think we were?" Solas asked her, amused.

"I knew it was odd. This is _Era’vhen’an_ ," she replied. "The Fade. All of your instruction, and I should have..."

"You are still new to this," Solas told her. "It is better discussed when you..."

Erafen blinked hard.

"...wake up."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved the scene with the Dalish Inquisitor and Solas in the Fade and intended on using it from the get-go. It just took me a while to consider how I wanted to set it up.
> 
> Also, my mentor in all things Elvhen language gave me some good words for the Fade.
> 
> Era’vhen’an (home of the dream)  
> Elgar’vhen’an (home of the spirits)
> 
> Each of them refer to specific aspects of the Fade, and I greatly like the concept of multiple names to describe its aspects.
> 
> For more, please see: http://fenxshiral.tumblr.com/tagged/project+elvhen/


	13. Tel'abelas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sorry. =) Erafen and Dorian play matchmaker. Cullen and Miryam play chess. This one is also a mite short.

Erafen blinked to alertness, finding herself on her bed, resting half on her face with her limbs askew. She quickly sat up from such an undignified position, rubbing her hands over her face. What just happened? She ran through a mental list.

She and Solas were talking in the Fade.

She kissed him.

He kissed her in return.

There was _tongue_.

She was positive he'd squeezed her hip.

Oh Creators, Maker, and anything else that may or may not exist, how-how-HOW could she face him again? Of course, that was a silly question because she certainly wanted to face him again.

" _Fenedhis_ ," she hissed. " _Fen_. _Edhis_." She repeated it again, letting the curse roll over her tongue, and then she laughed to herself at the literal meaning of the curse. She was positive she'd felt that part of him, too. She hadn't been this giddy and nervous since her first kiss in an aravel at fifteen.

No matter how much older one becomes, issues of affection always reduced one to a fumbling teenager. Memory hit her, and it sobered her, but then was pushed aside at the memory of Solas.

Erafen pulled herself out of bed, straightening out her tunic and making sure her hair was neat and presentable.

"Warm, soft, and... moist. It was a dream in a dream, and he told you to 'wake up'," she heard from behind. Erafen spun around to see Cole perched on the end of her bed.

"How do you do that?" she asked him, exasperated.

"I am only me," Cole replied. "And you are happy but uncertain. He wants you to come to him."

"Cole, please," Erafen told him. "Let this happen in its own time. I will go to him. Thank you for helping, but this one is private."

Cole nodded once, floppy hat waving under the movement, and then he was gone.

“ _Elgar'en_ ," Erafen muttered to herself, and the gathered the books intended for Solas and made her way out of her room, around the exterior ledge and towards Vivienne's balcony.

The First Enchanter was paying her no mind, looking out of the double doors at the courtyard below, and Erafen made a decision, stopping and setting down her bag of books and scrolls.

"Vivienne?" she called out.

The taller woman spun around, looking almost annoyed but managing a polite smile. "Yes, my dear?"

"We found a number of scrolls and books traveling through the Hinterlands. Some of these documents belonged to the Ferelden Circle. Miryam gave me leave to decide what to do with them, and I thought those from the Circle could have no better home than in your hands." With that, she took the tome and three scrolls from her bag.

Vivienne looked the elf over as if checking for duplicity, and then she moved closer to inspect the items. Her expression shifted almost instantly to pleased surprise. "My dear, never in a century did I ever expect a Dalish apostate would give the Circle of Magi so precious a gift. Thank you, darling." Her posture relaxed slightly as she took the items. "I am in your debt."

"All I would ask is your tutelage on the Circles and their style of magic," Erafen said. "You may not think elves have much value, but I would like to change this. Your assistance would never be forgotten."

The woman seemed to consider it, and then she nodded. "You put in my hands the potential to shape the future for your kind. I believe we may come to an arrangement. We will continue our tea then."

Erafen smiled, genuinely pleased. Vivienne did tend to her own agenda, but perhaps she was worth getting to know beyond basic politeness. "I look forward to it." She reached for her bag. "Perhaps, when Solas is done with these books of lore, I can convince him to let them go your way if you're interested."

"I am," Vivienne said. "But do not keep your mentor waiting, darling."

"Of course!" Erafen said, and with another smile and nod, she darted off to the doorway leading to the library.

There was something to be said, she considered, for small kindnesses. One thoughtful action can spawn another, and unless someone is truly a horrible person, it will mean something to them. At the very least, part of her job was making sure that the Inquisitor’s Inner Circle was relatively happy and cared for, and she took her duties to heart.

When she descended the stairs and entered the Rotunda, Solas was standing at his desk, almost as if he was waiting for her. Erafen colored again, but she couldn’t help matching the smirk on the older elf’s face.

“Sleep well?” he asked casually.

“I might have slept better if someone hadn’t told me to wake up. What was that?” Erafen wondered.

“Ah, it was… what it was,” Solas replied. “It was ill-considered, and I shouldn’t have encouraged it.”

“Yet you’re the one who started with tongue,” Erafen said before she could stop herself.

“I did no such thing!” Solas declared, though she could see in his eyes he was trying to hold back amusement and only _just_ kept it at bay.

“So it doesn’t count if it’s Fade Tongue,” Erafen stated, feigning understanding.

“I… it’s been a very long time,” Solas said, conceding. “Things are easier for me in the Fade.”

“I wouldn’t mind it happening again,” Erafen told him before she lost her nerve. “Could you see me as more?”

“I could,” he admitted. “But there are things to consider. Please let me think on it.”

“Take all the time you need,” Erafen said. “By the by, I brought you some old manuscripts we found around the Hinterlands. Some are in Elvish; I could read some of it, but there are more complex characters. I thought you should have them.” She reached into her bag, producing the books and scrolls a few at a time, laying them on a clear part of the desk.

“Some of these are Dalish,” Solas said after a long moment of looking through a few of the books. “This one is from Halamshiral, odd to be so far away from Orlais. This may have belonged to a clan.”

“What will they serve people who cannot read them?” Erafen wondered. “Perhaps we may yet find some lost history, a way to determine where things changed so drastically.”

“If I find answers, you will be the first I share them with,” Solas promised.

Erafen seemed pleased, nodding in agreement. “As much as I would like to stay, I do still have things to do. I have Venatori documents for Dorian.”

“Then do not let me keep you,” Solas told her with a nod. “ _Dareth shiral_.”

She nodded and returned to the staircase, mildly aware that he watched her leave, and couldn’t help the smile that graced her features as she approached the Tevinter mage.

“Hello, sweetling. My, you seem annoyingly chipper this morning,” he told her by way of greeting. “Whatever has you so pleased?”

“Reasons and things,” Erafen replied, looking coy.

“Aaaah, ‘reasons and things’! They’re always behind events. That wretched ‘stuff’ helps, too, I’m certain,” Dorian teased. “I see you come with gifts.”

“Not the fun ones,” Erafen lamented. “Venatori documents, things we may need your expertise in translating.”

“Of course. I did volunteer, did I not?” he replied, taking the letters and book Erafen passed his way. “And I would love to stay and talk, but the dear Commander and I have a score to settle.”

“Oh?” she wondered.

“At chess. We have learned we each like to play, so in our masculine fashion, we need to prove who is superior,” Dorian explained. “Do you play?”

“Not if I can help it,” Erafen snorted, though a playful wink indicated she didn’t think less of those who did.

“A shame; your adorable little face would drive opponents to distraction,” Dorian said charmingly.

“Well, don’t keep the Commander waiting!” Erafen told him. “The documents can wait.”

“Of course, sweetling. _Do_ keep yourself out of trouble,” he said, walking to the stairs Erafen just vacated.

“Trouble? Me? Always,” Erafen joked, “But wait, how long do your games tend to run? I would like to send Miryam his way…”

“At a time they’re both relaxed? Brilliant!” Dorian exclaimed. “They’ve been dancing around each other so. Aim for two hours from now.”

“It’s a date!” Erafen exclaimed and she continued on inward to discuss a few things with Fiona and provide Leliana with some intelligence.

——

“You may wish to check in on Cullen,” Erafen told Miryam. “He seems so overworked that he might benefit from talking to you.”

The two women walked through the Grand Hall of Skyhold, heading towards the side door that led to the courtyard. “If you think I should,” Miryam said. “Are you sure you can handle the meeting with Josephine and Leliana for me?”

“Of course,” Erafen said. “You’ve nothing to worry about. I take good notes, remember?”

Miryam laughed. “Especially since your writing has so vastly improved,” she said. “Very well. You said he was in the courtyard with Dorian?”

“So Dorian told me,” ‘Fen said innocently. “Dorian’s been trying to get poor Cullen to relax. You may be able to do more for him.” They stepped outside, and Erafen held back while Miryam continued.

The Inquisitor waited patiently, chatting with both men, and took Dorian’s seat when the man vacated it. He made his way over to Erafen, grinning broadly as he did so.

“I believe you and I are now the official matchmakers of Skyhold,” he told her. “Poor Miry. Poor Cullen. Poor the rest of us watching them be clueless teenagers around each other.”

Erafen laughed aloud at that, wandering back inside. “You know, taking over some of her minor duties to give them a chance to see how they are together is a small tradeoff. Friends have to look out for each other.”

“Indeed,” Dorian said. “Friends, hm? It’s been some time since I’ve considered myself to be among them.”

“I hope you do now,” Erafen said. “Who else will I annoy as I would an older handsome brother?” She winked.

“Oh, I’m positive you annoy other people, sweetling,” Dorian teased. He paused at the doorway, looking back to see Cullen and Miryam talking, eyes only on each other. “I believe this plan will play out nicely.”

“What of you?” Erafen asked as Dorian closed the door behind him.

“What of me?” Dorian deflected. “You aren’t considering playing matchmaker with some maiden for me, are you?”

“Maiden? No. strapping fellow, maybe,” Erafen said. “Don’t look so incredulously at me. You’re not the only one that thinks the Commander has a nice rear end.”

Dorian laughed. “I wondered if you might figure it out.”

“You’ve now confirmed it, and I suspect it also has something to do with why you left Tevinter,” she added.

“It did, but… let’s not discuss this now. I promise, I’ll tell you and the Inquisitor very soon,” the mage replied. “Let’s enjoy our success for now.”

“I’ll enjoy success more if we can do it over Antivan brandy,” Erafen said.

“Hah!” Dorian laughed. “It’s a deal!”


	14. Harillen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is another short one. It also introduces danger for Clan Lavellan.

“So this Cole is… a spirit?” Miryam asked, trying to clarify.

“Yes,” Erafen said simply. In her arms, the kitten she rescued from Haven, so named ‘Bull the Second’, wriggled in her arms. ‘Fen let the cat down, and away she dashed, chasing after some unseen prey.

“That’s helpful,” Miryam decided. “But he’s doing odd things around Skyhold.”

“I’ve heard about the mint and cheese issue. Bull the Second has been quite happy. Seems to put the cook in better spirits,” Erafen replied.

“So that was him after all,” Miryam said with a sigh. “I’ll talk to him about it. There has to be a reason.”

“Solas believes Cole is a spirit of compassion,” Erafen told her. “If what he’s doing is to lessen the pain of others, then that would explain why its weird and abstract.”

“Doesn’t make sense to us, but it does to him?” Miryam wondered. “I can understand that. He was near one of the wounded when we arrived from Haven. The man couldn’t be saved, so Cole did him a mercy.”

“A mercy,” Erafen repeated, letting out a sigh. “There were too many ‘mercies’ being handed out. Necessary, but no less sad.”

Miryam nodded, the two rounding the corner to Josephine’s office.

“My ladies,” Josephine said by way of greeting. “I trust you both are well?”

“In good health,” Erafen said with a bow, and Josephine nodded in approval.

“She’d fool any court in Ferelden,” Miryam said, pleased.

“We need her good enough to fool Orlais,” Josephine replied. “But she’ll get there. In fact, that is why I wanted to talk to you both. I have sent missives to Empress Celine to warn her of the assassination, but either they are not arriving or have been ignored.”

“If I were an empress, I’d expect them all of the time,” Erafen muttered.

“As would I. Have you spoken with Leliana?” Miryam wondered.

“She has,” came the voice of the spymaster, and Leliana walked in, holding a rolled page. “My spies have reported that some of them did, some of them did not, but for now, we are not important enough to the Imperial Court to be heeded.”

“There is a ball approaching in a few months at the Winter Palace,” Josephine said, expression thoughtful. “We may not be important enough now, but we can do more favors for members of Orlesian nobility, make ourselves known in Orlais and earn an invitation.”

“And I haven’t a thing to wear,” Miryam lamented. “Want to go to a ball, ‘Fen?”

  
“Are you joking? I would stick out like Iron Bull's horns,” Erafen said, confused.

“Please do not take offense, my friend,” Josephine said to the elf, “but members of the Imperial Court may take exception to your presence.”

“We must show Orlais and Thedas that the Inquisition accepts all, no matter birth,” Miryam insisted. “My advisors and companions would be there; I will not go without my First.”

“Then, Milady Lavellan, we will have to then school you in The Game,” Leliana said, clearly amused by the prospect. “I was a bard, as was Josephine; we may ask that you be one as well. The Inquisition must show that it can play as well as the locals.”

“You look like the cat in the cream, Leliana,” Erafen said, a touch nervous.

“Oh, Leliana loves The Game and all it entails,” Josephine said. “Well, perhaps not everything, but she is an expert and has a love of intrigue.”

“Good things for a spymaster,” Miryam commented.

“An elven bard would shake things up a bit, and be in just the right place to perhaps gain knowledge from the servants of the palace as well as overhear juicy tidbits from the nobility,” Leliana said.

“We need the invitation first,” Josephine insisted.

“We will get it. We will work for it,” Miryam told her firmly. “And we have time to prepare for the event.”

“Time to split between preparations and duty,” Erafen said. “Don’t forget the expedition to the Exalted Plains in two days time.”

“As if I could forget, there will be Dalish to gather favor with, too,” Miryam said. “Solas has mentioned having a friend we need to help there.” She turned thoughtful. “Given our discussion about Cole earlier, I’ll bring him, Cole, and Bull on this trip. The second expedition, I may ask you to join. We’ll scout, then see if we can gain support from any clans there.”

“Cole and Solas will be insightful, I’m sure,” Josephine agreed. “I do agree; Erafen should accompany you to see the Dalish, being the one of us who best knows their customs.”

Erafen expected that Solas would go. They hadn’t had much time for talk between his painting, studies, Cole, and her own duties. Still, she couldn’t help but turn the tables a little.

“You and Cullen have been plotting a bit as of late,” she told Miryam.

The woman immediately blushed. “We’re working on… something.”

“Mmmhm,” Leliana teased. “We shall see how you are at the War Table.” The spymaster paused, however, recalling something. “Which leads me to the other reason I’m here. Erafen, I’ve received word of Clan Lavellan.”

“They’re still in the Free Marches, yes?” Erafen wondered. “I’ve received a few notes from my Keeper that they’re outside Wycome.”

“And you did reassure your Keeper you were here of your own free will?” Leliana asked.

“Of course. She accepted my word,” Erafen replied.

“I recall that we sent messengers, too, to meet with your clan,” Miryam said. “They sent us a nice lot of blood lotus and elfroot.”

“Were you aware, then, that the valley they’ve chosen to camp in has been the target of bandits?” Leliana asked.

“What?!” Erafen stuttered. “Keeper Deshanna said nothing of this in her last message!”

“Because the last message she sent you was intercepted,” Leliana told the elf. “Which my spies intercepted in return and brought directly to me.”

“We have to help them,” Erafen said, pitch rising in near panic.

“We can have Cullen send troops,” Miryam began.

“Please, if I may, let me handle it,” Leliana offered. “I find it odd that bandits would attack a group of Dalish with no provocation. This stinks of deception, and it would serve all to find out what, if anything, is behind this.”

“Then do it. I give you full authority, Spymaster,” Miryam said with conviction. “And if more develops while I’m away, Erafen speaks with my authority in these matters.”

  
“Thank you,” Erafen said, her voice not quite cooperating.

“Let us move to the War Room. I’ll give a full briefing,” Leliana said. “Cullen was there last I saw him.”

“Figures he would be,” Miryam said to herself, but Leliana gave her a knowing smile.

The Commander was indeed there, and to Erafen’s surprise, he was understanding of the situation and offered his own suggestions. It was decided to let Leliana’s people handle it anyway, and the order was quickly dispatched. The elf was visibly relieved, though of course success couldn’t be guaranteed, and so she left, wandering around the battlements on her own.

Her goal was avoiding her mentor, who she feared may say some scathing remark about the Dalish, her people, in his disdain of their lives and culture. Her wandering feet brought her back to her own room and the stone balcony overlooking the courtyard. Erafen wasn’t sure how long she wandered and thought, but she was hit with realization: her quest for knowledge stood in contrast with the culture that raised her. Everything she’d learned about the People’s history that contrasted with what she’d been taught threatened to unmake that culture. No wonder her people pushed Solas away.

  
 _How can I honor what raised me and still continue this path?_ Erafen thought to herself. She didn’t want to destroy the culture the Dalish built for themselves. Even if most of its stories were myth, it was a new culture born from the ashes of the old. She thought of her people struggling against the _shemlen_ bandits, thought of all of the struggles she’d witnessed, and wondered if her studies should remain solitary.

 _“There is no growth without struggle. There is no growth in stagnation.”_ Deshanna’s voice came to mind, the very same thing she said when Erafen was elected to spy on the Conclave. The elves of Arlathan, as she learned, spent centuries and their society changed little. Then something changed. The elves in slavery in Tevinter were there for countless years, and then Andraste and Shartan made things change. Halamshiral stood long until the elves shut themselves in and became solitary, and the Chantry marched and made them change. The Dalish continue to do things as they’ve always done, and the City elves stagnate in their alienages.

“ _Din nadas_ ,” she said aloud.

Erafen let out a lingering sigh, finally looking up from the same spot of ground in the courtyard she’d focused on since she began her internal debate. Across the way, she could see Cullen and Miryam standing, talking to each other. They were far closer than Erafen remembered seeing them in person, and then she saw the Inquisitor lean back against the stone. Cullen hid the human woman from view, and Erafen felt excited despite herself… until they were interrupted. It only lasted a short time, however, and ‘Fen laughed to herself when she saw Cullen immediately move back in on her friend, a surprised hand grasping at air before it settled on his side.

“About damn time,” Erafen told herself. Maybe endings are inevitable, but beginnings are, too.

 


	15. Alas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erafen learns of a certain Master Cadash and how to open up about herself.

A week passed since Miryam took her party to the Exalted Plains, and Erafen tended to business, making sure nothing would press the Inquisitor upon her return. She authorized forays to the Storm Coast to gather shards, thinking that there may be answers in the ruins at Solasan. Really, while she missed her friends, her thoughts were still on the Dalish under attack by bandits outside Wycome.

“Mistress Lavellan!” a dwarven page called out, and he hurried to her on stout legs. “Sister Leliana has asked that you join her, Ambassador Montilyet, and the Commander in the War Room.”

“Thank you, I’ll head there now,” Erafen said. Hopefully there would be good news.

“There you are,” Leliana said when the elf joined them. “As I recall, the Inquisitor gave you leave to manage our efforts to aid your clan. I have news.”

“Please tell me,” Erafen said, hoping she didn’t sound too worried or weary.

“My suspicions were correct: these are bandits in name only. Though they wear no colors, they are mercenaries, bought and paid for by Duke Antoine of Wycome himself,” the Spymaster said.

“Why would he turn on the Dalish? What does he gain from this?” Cullen wondered.

“He is outwardly loyal to the Inquisition, even pledging us gold from his coffers, but this? Does he have some other agenda?” Josephine wondered.

“We need more information,” Erafen stated.

“We could just kill him,” Leliana pointed out.

“Or my diplomats could intervene,” Josephine said. “In this, they can go where Leliana’s spies cannot.”

“I would not suggest a military advancement,” Cullen said.

The elf looked at the markers on the map, imagining her people, scared and restless and now reliant on the Inquisition for safety. “Josephine, this is yours. Do what you need.”

“At once,” Josephine said, and left to make arrangements.

——

Waiting for news was a slow torture, and so Erafen took to exploring more corners of Skyhold. On one particularly overcast afternoon, she found the dungeons, following the steps into the fire-lit hallway. The guard posted nodded to Erafen, making small chatter.

“We’ve few to watch over, the Mayor of Crestwood, that Tevinter from Redcliffe, and the Carta Dwarf. Oh, and Sully is in the lock up again, the drunken bastard.” The guard snorted.

“Miryam’s going to be calling court when she returns,” Erafen said, but she paused, looking over at the dwarf sullenly watching her. “Excuse us?”

“Yes, Milady,” the guard said, moving aside.

“Edric Cadash?” Erafen asked, and the dwarf snorted.

“A pretty face goes far, does it?” the dwarf said by way of reply. “That we should both be spying on the Conclave and you get made the Inquisitor’s First says much.”

“I was not spying for the sake of an organization looking only to its own profits, _Durgen’len_ ,” Erafen said. “You were in far more precarious a situation, and then to be caught in the War Room…”

“Fine, fine, I know I wasn’t there for any pure intentions,” Cadash said with another snort. “But that’s not why I stayed.”

“I’m listening,” Erafen told him.

“The Carta did send me, yes. I was selling lyrium, true. I kept the lines of supplies open because I saw which way the wind was blowing. The mages needed what I could give,” the dwarf told her. “But I still remained because I believe in what the Inquisition is doing.”

“Then why were you snooping in the War Room?” Erafen asked plainly.

“I was in there to leave a document where your Commander would see it,” Cadash replied. “Trade routes. Some folks have been seeing this red lyrium more and more. I’ve been getting word from friends, but now it’s cut off since I was found out.”

Erafen let out a breath, not knowing if she could believe him. “I’ll tell the Inquisitor upon her return. I can promise nothing until then.”

“Maybe bring me some beer?” the dwarf asked hopefully.

“That, I can do,” Erafen told him. "I'll have it sent down for you and our guard friend." She excused herself to head to the tavern.

She’d barely ordered the keg for the dwarf, leaving instructions that it was to sit outside the cell, when she was poked in the shoulder.

“Inky,” Sera said. “Come up. I need a chat.”

Erafen frowned once and nodded, following the younger elf to her little corner of the second story and out of the open window. They settled down on the roof, Sera oddly quiet for a long moment.

“Look, you asked me a long time ago where I came from. Denerim,” Sera said. “I was on my own, a little thief, and this noble, old sick thing named Emmald took me in.”

“Out of kindness or loneliness?” Erafen wondered.

“Not a fucking clue,” Sera said. “I thought maybe niceness. We’d have cookies. Thought she made ‘em herself until I asked her. They were lies. She had ‘em bought.”

“I take it this is symbolic?” ‘Fen asked.

“Whatever, most of the shite she gave me was lies,” Sera said. “Dress up the elf doll, walk her about in the Chantry.”

“Explains why you’re not very ‘elfy’,” Erafen mentioned.

“Maybe. Or maybe most elves I meet are stupid,” Sera retorted. “Not you, though. Solas has his head up a thousand years, that Fiona is all magic and struggles. You try to be more, but you’re also still just a person.”

“Thanks?” Erafen said, confused but accepting.

“Shut up, Inky, lemme finish,” Sera snapped, and then gave an apologetic shrug. “Was sayin’ that you want the elves to be more than they are but not what they were? Well, keep it up. Don’t do it like old Solas or the Dalish or the City elves. Do it like… like…”

“Like being a part of the world and not apart from it?” Erafen supplied.

“Yeah, sommat like that,” Sera said, embarrassed. “You’d be perfect if you didn’t follow all those old failed gods.”

“I follow the examples in stories that pass wisdom,” the older elf stated. “I follow experience. I long thought that if the Elvhen gods were truly above reproach, they would not have fallen and been locked away.”

“They _failed_ ,” Sera insisted.

“Everyone fails at something,” Erafen said. “Especially those who set themselves up as gods.”

Sera seemed to absorb that, frowning sharply as the statement contrasted with her stubborn nature and her beliefs, but then she perked up. “Like Coryphy-shit is going to fail.”

Erafen grinned. “Like that. Anyone standing up and boasting of their godhood is bound to be taken down by those who would not be enslaved.”

“So why do you wear the weird Dalish tattoos?” the younger woman asked suddenly. "I mean, if they're not gods to you."

“I took them after…” Erafen sighed. She’d only told very few, but she opened up. “I was attacked by a _shemlen_ hunter. I was barely twelve, and still very much a child, having developed slower than even my younger sister. He sought to… possess me.”

“Monster like that deserves an arrow in the neck,” Sera muttered, frowning. “Did…I mean, did he?”

“I set him on fire in my panic,” Erafen said. “Balls first. Fire rising up, spreading between us. That’s how I found out I was a mage. I stood over him and watched him die, skin and fat melting from his body until there was nothing but a blackened husk. Burned myself a bit, too. I... I did not sleep for days after. I would see his face, feel his hands. I c-couldn't. I feared the Fade. I thought his spirit would find me there.”

“Shite, Inky,” Sera swore.

“It was the first time I called to Fen’Harel for protection. If the other gods were gone, beyond my prayers, perhaps he could hear and would listen,” Erafen said. “And that night, finally, I slept.”

“So you think the great betrayer of your Dalish was watching? Pfht,” Sera scoffed.

“I don’t know, but I started questioning after that,” Erafen answered seriously. “But faith needs to be tested to be stronger. Sometimes it breaks. Sometimes we find a different sort of faith. So instead of looking to the gods to guide me in some abstract way from wherever they're stuck, I looked to what they represented. I decided on Mythal. She's a mother, a defender."

"Not like my 'mum'," Sera stated.

"No, but yours... maybe she had good intentions, but you know people. Mothers who would give up everything for their children. I wanted to be like that for other elves, so _shemlen_ assholes like the one who attacked me wouldn't see us as just... things. Beneath them," the mage said softly. "But those questions, making faith grow and change, you know? I learned to have faith in myself."

"You ever tell anyone this?" Sera asked, sudden realization showing.

"Not many. No one here," 'Fen replied, looking at her hands. "But you asked. I... I trust you."

The younger elf was quiet, mulling that over for minutes. "I'm going to get us some drinks. Yep, some good wine this time, and cheese, and we're going to tell each other funnies until we pass out pissed on the roof." She hopped up, not waiting for an answer.

Erafen watched Sera go, smiling to herself after the younger woman left. While her trauma from the event didn't affect her strongly in her adulthood, she accepted that it was a part of what made her who she was and faced it down. Still, telling another person was like letting out a splinter she hadn't realized was under her skin until picked at.

Maybe it was truly Fen'Harel in the Fade, or maybe it was a spirit. Maybe the Dread Wolf delivered her from her nightmares, or maybe it was her faith. Maybe no gods walked the land, but her friends did. She survived, she learned, and her friends could be counted upon. That took faith, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on Chapter 19 right now. Things are getting pretty serious, and some loose ends are coming together. As always, thank you to everyone who left comments and have supported me in my writing. I promise not to leave you hanging too long.
> 
> I'm considering creating another side-Tumblr for some artwork and screen caps for some of the characters. I do have Miryam as an Inquisitor and tried to make one for Erafen (my Dalish Inquisitor is another named Alona). If anyone wants to contribute to this little pocket universe, I won't say no! Should I decide to make the Tumblr, I'll have a link up to it soon.
> 
> My main tumblr is kuroutsubasa.tumblr.com and I run another one called masseffecting.tumblr.com for my stupid LoLEffect captions. Feel free to come by and say hello.


	16. Lath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All new, faded for her. 
> 
> PS: I really can't write smut. I'll take volunteers.

Only a day since Erafen's talk with Sera passed, and the First found herself finishing off the last bit of correspondence to send to Keeper Deshanna. Her hunch to trust Josephine in sending a diplomat to check on Duke Antoine was fruitful; the Duke was using red lyrium to "purify" the humans' wells while leaving that of the alienage untouched. As a result, the humans were becoming ill with an unknown disease while the elves were still healthy. After learning of this, another letter arrived by crow advising Erafen of Deshanna's fears that the humans would turn to violence against the Dalish and City elves, and that many from the alienage have turned to the clan for sanctuary.

_"Da'len,_

_The nobles of Wycome grow more agitated by the day. They clearly blame us and the elves in the alienage for some disease that has stricken the humans of the city, and I have seen their scouts watching our new camp with predators' eyes._

_Some of the elves of Wycome fled their alienage to warn us. Others fled to escape the harsh treatment they are suffering in the city._

_I fear violence will come soon, da'len. I ask your help in this matter._

_Dareth shiral,_   
_Keeper Istimaethoriel Lavellen"_

  
Erafen read over the letter again, then looked to her response, making sure she worded everything so as not to reveal too much if intercepted. She thanked her lessons from Solas and those in the Fade for her now-improved Elvish script.

_"Ha'hren,_

_I can tell you little other than shelter yourselves and our alienage kin for now. Help comes under a friendly banner. Arm yourselves; you may find you need it._

_The Inquisition has given me full leave to use what resources I need to protect you. Go with the blessings of Mythal; you are protected._

_With love and devotion,_   
_Erafen - First to the Inquisitor"_

She spread fine grains over the ink, helping it to dry, and rolled the parchment. Once in a scroll case, it was attached to her crow's leg, and then the bird took flight. As it soared ever skyward, its shadow passed over the central courtyard, fading as it ascended.

"I must commend you," Leliana's voice said from behind her, and Erafen looked over the shoulder to see the Spymaster approach. "You have become quite the broad thinker and strategist. You are what the Inquisitor needs most."

"All I can do is my best," Erafen deflected.

"Indeed," Leliana said. "I did not come to fluff your ego, though deserved it may be. A note arrived from Miryam. I felt you should know."

"Hm?" the elf asked, brow furrowed.

"There was a favor your mentor requested of the Inquisitor: mages enslaved one of his spirit friends. As it turns out, the spirit was corrupted, made a demon, and while they were able to return it to its nature, it was far too damaged to continue. His friend is no more," Leliana said.

"Oh no," Erafen said, eyes wide. "The poor thing didn't deserve that! He must be devastated."

"So much that he killed the mages responsible and left on his own. We've no idea if he is to return. As such, I have some of my spies looking for him," the woman said. "I understand you have learned talents in the Fade. If you find a trace of him there, please let me know."

Erafen nodded, worried, frustrated, and no small amount grieving. "I will, Sister Leliana."

"Thank you," Leliana said, and then her expression grew softer. "If it consoles you, I think he will return when he has dealt with his sorrow."

" _Ma serannas_ ," Erafen told her. Leliana kindly left the elf to her thoughts. Knowing so little else, those thoughts turned into worries.

That night, Erafen entered the Fade in her dreams, this time on a mission. There was no Fen'Harel, spirit or real, but in the distance, she was sure she heard a wolf's mournful howl. It echoed the soreness in her heart for her mentor, who she was positive grieved alone. She wandered, calling to spirits friendly to her, seeking Solas in the dreamscape, but her search bore no results.

Erafen awoke early that morning, feeling as if she had little rest and also powerless to help the man she was sure she loved.

Dressing quickly, the elf left her room, heading into the main hall of Skyhold and out to the walkway leading to the main courtyard. Dawn rose slowly in the distance, and as she looked through the gates, she made note of a lone figure approaching the walkway.

"Open the gate!" she called out the the guard, and ran forward, heedless of the night watch. Her feet carried her swiftly, and in the next instant, she threw her arms around an exhausted and mournful Solas.

His body froze, tense, and then, there on the windy walkway, he closed his arms around her, nose in her hair. " _Ir abelas_ ," he told her, voice broken.

" _U tel’ebalas_ ," Erafen mumbled against his coat. " _Emas em, vis veremah mar abelas. Ea in’vhen’an sul ma._ "

He was quiet for a long moment, time seeming to freeze around them. " _Verem ma ame laim._ " It was said so softly Erafen barely recognized what he said. She looked up at him questioningly.

"Will you stay?" she asked.

"I will," he replied.

Erafen released him, straightening out her clothes, a faint pink at her cheeks both from the wind and her blush. "I am sorry about your friend."

"I am sorry I didn't tell you," Solas replied.

"Let's go inside. You look like you need something warm to eat and a week of rest," she said insistently, indicating the gate.

Solas merely nodded, following Erafen inside. The younger elf saw to hot stew and and a relaxing beverage, and then she remained close by, sitting on the couch to make herself available to hear whatever her mentor had to say.

"It was a spirit of wisdom," he finally said, pacing. "Gentle and ancient, only interested in gathering and sharing knowledge. It was one of the first spirits I met, one of my oldest friends. It was freed but too damaged to return to the Fade as it was."

"So you helped it," Erafen supplied. "I understand, and I am so sorry. Please, though, you don't have to mourn alone."

Solas looked at her, considering his words. "It has been so long since I could trust someone."

"I know," Erafen replied.

"I will work on it," he assured her. "There are things I must do..." He ceased his pacing, coming to join Erafen on the couch. Hands clasped before him, he stared at them. "I found a quiet place in the Fade," he switched. "I found energies coalescing in the place my friend dwelt. A new spirit may yet form, though it will likely no longer remember me."

"Is what you need to do, this burden you bear, related to the spirits or the Fade?" Erafen asked.

A faint smile cracked; he realized she wasn't going to miss if he stumbled. "Of sorts. I have things I must do for the sake of the People. Things to put right, and for this, I have set out a lonely path."

"You didn't expect to find anyone willing to walk it with you?" Erafen wondered.

"No. It is... a reason I rather wish that you had been Inquisitor. As you are, you have the freedom to walk away when this is done," came the response. As he had months before, he reached out with long fingers, tracing the branches on Erafen's cheeks.

'Fen leaned her cheek into his hand. "Does that frighten you?"

"It does, but not for my sake. For yours," he replied. "And, well, if I were to be honest, then also for what you might think of me."

"You said you were lost without me," she said.

"And you said there is a place for me in your heart," he replied.

"What is the truth?" Erafen asked, opening her eyes.

"I... can't tell you," Solas replied sadly. "Please do not ask."

"What truth _can_ you tell me?" she asked instead, holding his hand to her cheek.

Solas seemed to struggle with his thoughts, starting to pull away, but Erafen held his hand close still, eyes entreating him not to go. A decision made, and instead, he pulled her to him, bringing Erafen to rest on his lap, giving into the wants he displayed weeks ago in the Fade. His kiss was hungry.

" _Ar lath ma_ ," he murmured against her lips. " _'Ma vhen'an_."

" _'Ma sa'lath,_ " Erafen replied.

They weren't sure how long they remained that way, but the shuffling of feet overhead indicated that the mages in the above library may soon provide the pair an unwanted audience. They reluctantly parted.

"I, er, have duties. Shall we meet tonight?" Erafen wondered, sliding back to stand.

” _Ar isalan ma._ " Solas replied, and then he laughed softly at how red Erafen turned at his words.

"I... tonight then. Excuse me," 'Fen said, and dashed off, praying to anyone who would listen and could help that her cheeks would be the normal color by the time she made it to the War Room.

The rest of her day was spent as a blur. Even Cullen noted how distracted she was, but Leliana smiled knowingly. Josephine continued smoothly, making no note of if she noticed or not.

"Now that Solas has returned, we should send someone to support our Inquisitor during his time of mourning," Cullen suggested.

"Dorian is already preparing to join her. Scout Harding will be returning for another expedition, so he is going with her," Leliana told him.

"And do we have word from Wycome?" Erafen asked.

"My troops arrive on tomorrow. Have you warned your people?" Cullen wondered.

"I have. I sent my crow yesterday," the elf replied.

"Do not worry, milady. They will be safe. Our forces are the best," the commander said confidently.

Erafen wished she shared his confidence. She had the worries of her people on her shoulders, the duties of the Inquisition, and now what she knew was to be a night of intimacy she may or may not be prepared for, even as much as she might want it. When the meeting was concluded, she nodded in thanks to the others, and wandered off, thankful she had fewer duties to attend to now that battle plans were done.

So lost in thought she was until she nearly bowled over Cole.

"You remember the touch of loathsome hands and fear his will remind you," he said plainly.

"I know that event is in the past," she retorted.

"The mind knows in the now, but the secret places of it may not let you remember that you know," the human-spirit said. "I can make you forget."

Erafen looked around, noting that Varric watched the two conversing. She nodded to the dwarf, and led Cole upstairs and towards her room and balcony.

"I don't want to forget," she told him quietly. "Our memories make us who we are. Our experiences shape us."

"Your memory makes you afraid to give yourself," Cole countered. "I don't understand."

"Some may welcome forgetting," Erafen said gently, and she reached out with a smile to gently flick at the floppy brim of his hat.

"You are proud of your ability to overcome," the spirit said in realization. "I would do you a disservice."

"Precisely, though I still thank you."

Cole looked thoughtful, and then he threw his arms around the elf, surprising her, but she relaxed into the friendly hug. "This is what you need right now," he told her.

"Sometimes that's all we need," 'Fen replied. "And you, dear Cole, are a good friend. Just ignore Vivienne."

"She has old fears," he whispered, finally letting Erafen go.

"We all do, _da'len_ ," she said. "Thank you for letting me deal with mine."

"You burned him. He deserved it," Cole said. "There is a different fire now. It will not hurt either of you now."

Before Erafen could reply, the spirit was gone, and she let out a long sigh, shaking her head. It was already getting long in the day; she should take care of the dignitaries, but she heard footsteps approaching.

"He's a good kid," Varric said casually. "Also, you should consider a ground floor room if you want more dwarves visiting," he joked.

" _Ma serannas_ , Master Tethras," Erafen said teasingly. "What brings you up here?"

"I have this friend coming, someone I want Miryam to meet. The problem is, I don't really want many other people to know she's here until afterward."

"I see," the elf replied. "And if we find her a hiding place, will this friend of yours remain quiet? Will she cause trouble?"

"Not really trouble, just the ire of a certain Seeker," the dwarf told her sheepishly. "I'll be in for it either way."

Erafen let out another sigh, running over the layout of the castle in her mind. "There is a hall attached to the kitchen, and it has rooms: one is an arcane study and the other a wine and ale storage. The hall itself is disused; only the kitchen staff pass through. Disguise your friend, and she may hide in the study. When will she arrive?"

"I'll have her come when the Inquisitor is on her way back. Better to avoid risk," Varric told her, visibly relaxing some. "So, you and Chuckles?"

"Are we already a topic?" Erafen asked, rolling her eyes.

"No, no more than the chatter went at Haven," Varric replied, "but I did see your reunion."

"Ah, _that_ ," Erafen said.

"Be careful," the dwarf cautioned. "But hell, if he makes you happy..."

"Thank you, Varric," Erafen said, interrupting with an understanding nod.

"That's all, Lily." He nodded once. "Thanks again for the help."

\----

Erafen wore only a robe, fresh from her bath. Solas made his intention clear earlier; what use did she have for dressing up? Sitting there on the edge of her bed, her mind mulled over what she and Cole discussed. She'd told Sera; Cole knew by way of his power. She was sure she could tell Solas, and she was positive he wouldn't judge her for it, but still. Was she still not as over that pivotal event as she thought she was?

Her mind wandered to times past, to flings and romances, and how she'd never consummated any of them. Something would make her freeze, she would find an excuse not to, or she would end the relationship before anything else developed. She didn't want any of that to happen now.

"Are you troubled, _vhen'an_?" Solas asked from the open doorway. "You left it cracked," he added in explanation.

"A bit," she admitted. "Please come in."

Solas did so, closing the door behind him. "I am overdressed," he said with amusement.

"Were you not the one who said he desired me?" Erafen countered, this time smiling.

"And is that mutual?"

"It is."

He approached, removing his belt and setting it aside. A few more steps brought him to stand in front of Erafen, bringing his wolf jaw amulet at her eye-level. She touched it, feeling the power held in it, and looked up at him, her own uneasiness evident.

"You carry an old pain," he noted. "Someone has treated you badly."

"Someone tried," she admitted. "And he died when my magic manifested in my panic."

Solas made a 'hmmm' low in his throat. "Then forgive me for being too forward." He still did not move. "I will not cause you more pain."

" _Aman na’mis._ " She said it softly, her eyes meeting his. " _Ar isa_ \--mmmmph!"

Her words were cut off by a kiss, her fear puled away by gentle hands and the feeling of his aura pressing against hers. It felt ancient and new in one, and she relaxed despite the duality.

"I do not require that to be yours," he told her. "I will not push that on you."

"I want you to," she replied. " _Garas_." 

Solas stood back, removing his tunic. He undressed in full view, moving carefully and watching Erafen to see if she might change her mind. Her reply was simple: she shrugged off her robe. She extended her hand to him when he finished, and he reached to take it, letting her pull him to lean over her.

In this strange castle built on ancient elven ground, on a human bed, surrounded outside by all the races of Thedas, Erafen released her restraint, let go of the pain in her past, and allowed herself to finally give freely of her heart and body to another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation time!
> 
> U tel’ebalas - Do not mourn alone.  
> Emas em, vis veremah mar abelas- You have me, if that will remove your sorrow.  
> Ea in’vhen’an sul ma - There is a place in my heart for you.  
> Ar isalan ma - I desire you.  
> 'Ma sa'lath - My one love ('Ma is a shortening of Emma)  
> Aman na'mis - Sheathe your blade in me.  
> Garas - Come.
> 
> PS: I really can write smut, but I need to be drunk, and I am stupidly embarrassed by doing so. Maybe it's because I'm Ace. *shrug*
> 
> Also, I've been posting my sad attempts at creating Erafen to look how I want her to in DA. Check out my present tumblr: kuroutsubasa.tumblr.com.


	17. On Dhea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "On dhea" is the elven equivalent of "Good morning", and for Erafen, it's a VERY good morning.

Erafen dreamed of hands from an unseen lover, caressing and touching and pleasuring her until she cried out. With her cry came alertness, and she shuddered awake, feeling slick fingers pull across her belly to rest on her hip.

" _On dhea_ ," a low voice mumbled near her ear. "Did I wake you?"

"You did that on purpose, you naughty thing," Erafen said, laughing breathlessly (and a bit sleepily). "Is it truly morning?"

"The sun rises soon, but we have time," Solas told her, pressing behind her. " _'Ma vhen'an_ ," he breathed into her neck, brushing her hair aside.

Erafen moved a leg to accommodate, letting Solas otherwise lead their dance. Her nervousness of the prior evening had seen been relaxed with his presence, and she let herself live in the moment, joined as they were. Last night, he'd taken his time, been gentle, and did not coax from Erafen what she didn't desire to let him take. Their joining came as a sweet surprise to her; she wasn't aware that it could ever be good, and had never truly desired anyone until him. It was like that again this morning: unhurried and no less intense.

Even when they both reached their climax, he stayed with her, whispering into her hair and running hands reverently over her skin. They dozed like that a few marks longer, finally reluctantly agreeing in silence that it was time to rise and start their respective days.

"May I return?" he asked her.

"Every night, if you like," Erafen promised.

For the first week together, it happened just that way. Some nights were nothing but talk and holding, others much more intimate, but there seemed to be something far deeper within Solas that Erafen appreciated.

Perhaps he did not realize what she read in him; 'Fen came to realize that his experiences in the Fade aged him; his soul was much older than his appearance. What he knew of magic was far more than self-taught as she realized what he knew was more on par with how Tevinter mages practiced (as she learned from Dorian) and Dalish techniques. Her love was indeed hiding something about his past, yet Erafen did not feel deceived in his love for her. She respected his privacy in that. In return, he did not ask for more than she was willing to give.

One early morning, Erafen stood on her balcony, watching the sun rise, and he stood in the doorway, watching the sun set her copper hair aflame in light. She was relaxed, unencumbered for just that moment, until a dark shape against the rising sun caught her eye. Her hand extended, and a crow landed on her arm.

"A letter from Keeper Deshanna," Erafen breathed. "Please, _'ma lath_ , help?"

Solas stood aside so she could enter the room, and he took the bird so Erafen could better remove the message. The crow then perched on the back of a chair, watching as the two settled on her bed, the elven woman leaning against her love for support as she read the letter.

"You said that your clan moved into Wycome to assist those within," Solas said as Erafen looked the parchment over.

"Other cities in the Free Marches only heard the rumors," Erafen replied. "I had Cullen send troops to reinforce the city. Miryam knows; she and Cullen have been writing while she's away."

"I will not interrupt you," he told her, falling silent.

Erafen began reading aloud:

_Da'len,_

_When you wrote me first to say you would remain with the Inquisition, my heart felt heavy, as if my assignment condemned you to leave the People. Never did I imagine that you would become our protector, that you would do more for the Dalish than any of our number, save the Warden years ago. We are safe, and what's more, we are in a position to flourish._

_Clan Lavellan now has a home in Wycome. The alienage walls are being torn down, and humans and elves mingle freely, exchanging stories and learning of each other. I sit on the new Wycome council with the alienage Ha'hren and some of the local merchants._

_I recall you asking why we did not live in harmony with the shemlen or our City kin. I thought it was not possible. Now? I truly know that anything is possible. Our people can thrive again._

_With great love,_   
_Dareth shiral -- Keeper Istimaethoriel Lavellan_

Erafen felt strong arms wrap around her, pulling her close. Tears came unbidden, borne of relief that her clan would live. It was as her Keeper said: they would thrive!

"Your clan proves that the Dalish can rise from their state," Solas said gently. "If this is possible, then perhaps I have misjudged them."

"Perhaps not _all_ of the Dalish,” Erafen said, wiping her damp eyes, "but at least this can be a beginning. Miryam wanted me to speak to the Dalish found in the Exalted Plains.”

“Your own expedition?” he wondered.

“Not as if I haven’t before. Will you come with me?”

“Did I not this morning?" He ducked when Erafen grabbed a pillow to swat him with. It was little effort, however, to pin her underneath him, mouth at her shoulder. "Of course, I will. I would not leave you to this alone if you wish me there."

Erafen smiled, and she moved out from under him long enough to put the letter away with the intention of replying later. Right now, she felt like celebrating, and she knew who to celebrate with.

——

“Edric Cadash,” Miryam told the dwarf, sitting on her throne. “I hereby conscript you for the Inquisition. You’ll work with the Quartermaster in securing lyrium and raw materials, and also with Scout Harding locating Deep Roads paths.”

“It will be my honor,” the dwarf said with a bow, and he was unchained and went off, pausing to nod in gratitude to Erafen who was watching from the side.

“And this next one,” Josephine said. “I present Chief Movran the Under of the Chasind. He stands accused of attacking Skyhold… with a goat.”

Erafen covered her mouth to hide her snort, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to listen to the rest with a straight face, so she wandered off, attending to the last of her duties before her expedition. With an internal snicker, she made sure to ask the cook to make goat jerky for the trip.

Even with demons, the Exalted Plains would prove to be more pleasant than where the Inquisitor headed next. Crestwood had been skillfully handled, but now there was work to do in Emprise du Lion. Erafen did not envy her friend. Of course, once relations with the Dalish were tended to, she herself would be leading her small group to meet up with Scout Harding in the Emerald Graves. A part of her shuddered to think what the Fade would reveal in the land where her ancestors died.

She truly wanted to let some of their fighters rest. Even though she didn’t fully trust the man, she opted to bring Warden Blackwall with her group. Solas and Cole were a given; the younger man asked nearly every day if she would take him. The human Warden, however, made her uneasy. Why? She couldn’t say. Miryam spoke well of him, skills and virtue both, though the Inquisitor did politely turn down an offer of courtship from him.

Preparing everything for the trip took more of her time than anticipated; she barely stopped for lunch and dinner, and found it late by the time all was prepared. Blackwall agreed to come on the trip, and he offered to help Dennet prepare horses for the journey. After passing on nervous thanks to the bearded human (facial hair was still odd to her), she wandered to find Solas.

He wasn’t in the rotunda, and after asking around, no one claimed to have seen the elf. It made her smile to think her lover might be waiting in her room, but that smile faltered when she saw it empty, her bed untouched. Grumbling, she paced around, and then had an idea.

“Cole!” she called out, and glanced over to find the spirit-man sitting on the balcony edge.

“You’re looking for Solas,” Cole said. “And you think I can find him. He was counting on it. He told me you have to find his aura.”

“What? But…” Erafen trailed off. She remembered feeling wrapped in him their first night, the feeling striking her as older and deeper than he appeared. “Ever the teacher,” she muttered.

“Do you like me when I’m more me?” Cole asked her suddenly. It took Erafen off guard. “I mean, like what I am and not like Varric wants me to be.”

“To be more spirit and not a human as our dwarven friend insists?” Erafen wondered, having heard the debate before.

“Yes,” Cole asked. “I am afraid. I don’t want to be bound like the spirit friend Solas mourns. I… should be bound by someone who would let me be me.”

“You don’t need to be bound, _da’len_ ,” Erafen told him. “You aren’t a demon, and you have us.”

Cole seemed to consider, but he shook his head. “You should find Solas,” he said, and in the next instant, he vanished.

Erafen huffed, frowning, but she took a moment to still her mind, remembering that protective fierceness she’d felt, the depth of his intensity. She felt silly; if he was this easy to find, she shouldn’t have wasted so much time looking and asking around.

She found him on top of one of the towers, one being revamped by a stone-working crew to be used by their resident mages. Pillows, wine, cheeses, and an amused elf greeted her.

“Well done,” Solas told her. “And come, join me. We have a clear night, and I wished to show you something.”

Erafen raised an eyebrow, coming over to settle down next to her love. “And this isn't just an excellent attempt to seduce me under the stars?”

Solas laughed, sliding an arm behind her back. “Seduction is is a given, ever your reward. This first is part education. You also need to relax, just for tonight.”

“I see,” Erafen said, taking her glass of wine. It was deep burgundy, almost black in the moonlight. “This is wine from Tevinter. Dorian has this.”

“It’s called ‘baco noir’ in Orlais,” Solas explained. “The grapes are grown in Orlais, but the technique is Tevinter. In actuality, it is Elvhen, grapes with a lineage begun in Arlathan.”

“I've come to understand that quite a bit that Tevinter claims had its origins from our ancestors,” Erafen observed. “Of course, so have many of Southern Thedas. I recall your explanation of the Knight-Enchanters coming from the traditions of Arcane Warriors.”

“Indeed,” Solas agreed. “But come, look at the stars.” He indicated, and with a trail of veilfire, he traced a pattern above them. “First constellation,” he started, and began telling her of the names they held in the days of Arlathan, drawing parallels to what the Dalish called them.

Erafen watched, asking questions, but through this, something bothered her. He traced the patterns of stars in spectral green, momentarily burning pathways through the air. The memory nagged at her mind, distracting her.

Solas once said he’d heard of veilfire, but had _never_ seen it done until she did it before him in the Hinterlands. How was it he had so strong a command of it now?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baco noir is a real grape variety, a mix of a French variation and a North American grape. I've been trying to find the wine here in California for a while.  
> http://www.wine-searcher.com/grape-26-baco-noir
> 
> I may have also finally perfected Erafen's face in DA:I.  
> http://kuroutsubasa.tumblr.com/post/110796318878/okay-dang-it-this-is-a-proper-erafen-i-still
> 
> And here is Miryam:  
> http://kuroutsubasa.tumblr.com/post/108623664653/my-new-human-inquisitor-has-a-very-interesting


	18. Era'mana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erafen finds a myth, and Solas tells an old story in a new way.

The Exalted Plains, to Erafen, was as gorgeous as it was sad. Her people lived here, _thrived_ here ages ago. In their wandering, she grew more melancholy, only lively when they fought demons or the undead or whatever those Freemen of the Dales claimed to be. The Orlesian military had hideous battlements set up, marring the gorgeous land with malformed structures. Erafen understood why they were needed, that there were still fights to be had in the Dales, but it struck a sad chord in her heart to think of it.

The group did find the Dalish camp, and as Erafen’s _vallaslin_ marked her as one of their number, they were accepted into the camp. There were troubles on all sides, according to Keeper Hawen, including a lost First, low supplies, desecrated graves, and low morale. Erafen recalled Miryam telling her of clearing out a Fade rift at some ruins, so she promised to confirm.

“This was after I left,” Solas told her as they followed the river.

“I was there,” Cole said. “There was such sadness, their rest disturbed by the rift. Spirits on all sides were in misery, floating and not fleeing.”

“If it’s a burial site, I don’t care who it’s dedicated to; the dead should be allowed their peace,” Blackwall insisted.

It wasn’t until they reached Val Bellanaris that Erafen found her voice. There were mounds, some graves exposed, and walls of arches around. She separated from the others, wandering around the mounds, and paused at one in particular: that of a small child.

“Our People,” Erafen said, and thinking of her clan, of the Dalish they’d been working to assist, she fell to her knees and let out a sob. In the near distance, she heard Cole’s voice, and then footsteps approaching her.

“They are long dead, _vhen’an_ ,” Solas said gently.

“We can repair their graves,” Erafen said. “We can respect what is gone and give them peace.”

“We can,” he agreed.

With effort, the four worked for a few hours setting coffin covers straight, reburying unearthed bones, and then, on the part of Erafen, saying prayers for the dead, even if Falon’Din was sealed away beyond hearing. Even if the figure wasn’t really a god, she could still evoke the intent.

On their way back to the Dalish camp, Erafen froze. There, grazing in a herd, was something she never thought she would see outside of paintings. Standing at the front of the the others, was a _halla_ with golden horns. One of the elves at the camp mentioned it, but ‘Fen honestly wrote it off as wishful thinking.

“I may start praying again,” Erafen whispered. She shouldered her staff, and she was positive Solas knew what her intention was.

“You’re going to chase it,” Cole said from her other side, knowingly.

“Oh _yes_ ,” she replied, and set off at a run.

Most of the _halla_ moved out of her way, used to the presence of elves among them, but the ‘golden’ _halla_ took off, though not at a full gallop. It seemed to understand that the elf trailing it intended no harm, but it was still unwilling to be caught.

“Are we going after her?” Blackwall looked incredulous; running in armor was usually ill-advised.

“No, we will meet her at the Dalish camp,” Solas said, not bothering to hide his amusement. “Let her run free.”

Her bare feet pounded ground and grass, legs protesting and burning, but she still ran, guiding the _halla_ though the fields and to the river, splashing along its banks until the animal arrived at the camp. Cheering broke out as she approached, but she could barely hear it over the roaring of her own blood throbbing in her ears.

“Are you all right?” Ithrien, the hunter who mentioned the _halla_ , asked.

“Better than I’ve been in a while,” Erafen admitted. “It was pure chance that we saw the _halla_ ,” she added.

“A blessing,” Ithrien told her sincerely. “Surely you walk with the gods’ blessing to bring _Hanal’ghilan_ to us.”

Erafen smiled politely, but it was with a heavy heart that she went next to deliver the package she’d had in her pack for one of their number, Emalien: the remaining personal effects of her brother, Valorin. She knew Solas wouldn’t approve, but still gave a slight lie, that the teenager was brave. In his intent? Possibly, but the fact he turned to blood magic would have sullied his sister's memory of him.

No, blood magic was not inherently evil, she reminded herself, but still, he was too young and too impressionable. It was sad, very sad, and Erafen let Emalien cling to her as the Dalish woman mourned. By the time the others in her group arrived, she’d extracted herself to let Emalien rest.

“We caught some game,” Blackwall said, taking note of the situation. “Hares and a stag. Not _halla_ , I swear. Thought our new friends could use it.”

“We will eat well tonight,” Keeper Hawen said, coming to look over. “You have done our small clan a great service. We would ask you to stay and eat with us.”

“ _Ma serannas_ ,” Erafen said, glancing over to Solas. He only seemed thoughtful, and nodded in her direction.

That night, they sat around the central campfire, listening to stories told from the Keeper and offering prayers that Valorin’s spirit may find peace in the Beyond. Cole spent almost the entire night sitting next to Emalien, whispering to her at intervals, clearly offering words to lessen her grief.

Keeper Hawen turned to a tale of Fen’Harel, one Erafen knew well, of Andruil’s capture of the Dread Wolf for hunting _halla_ without her permission, and the ensuing fight between Andruil and Anaris for the right to punish Fen’Harel.

“And so he chewed through the ropes and escaped,” Hawen said. “Such cleverness and duplicity, and at the expense of his fellow gods.”

“There are older stories that tell it differently,” Solas spoke up, an arm around Erafen’s shoulders.

“Oh? Please share,” Hawen said, though he seemed doubtful at the words of a ‘flat-ear’. “I am curious as to how a city-dweller would gain such knowledge.”

“I am not of the cities, nor am I of the Dales,” Solas said plainly. “I was raised apart from both, a Dreamer, and such I have been educated by the spirits of the Fade.”

“He has helped awaken the ability in me,” Erafen added in support. “There is little he’s told me that I have not found evidence of.”

Keeper Hawen’s eyes widened, and he nodded. “Please forgive this old man, then. We haven’t seen Dreamers among the clans for years.”

Rather than elaborate, Solas spoke. “Andruil did indeed capture Fen’Harel, but it was not her _halla_ he hunted. She tried many times to convince him to bed her, attracted to some mystery she saw in him. He was the one prey she could not snare until he made a simple mistake.”

Erafen listened intently, sitting up when Solas pulled his arm back so that he could lean forward to emphasize his tale. For the instant, she allowed herself to admire him, firelight casting dramatic shadows on his cheeks.

“Andruil was said to not only hunt the creatures of the forest, but her own servants. She was not pleased when her Great Hunt ended with her targets escaped. Instead of nimble slaves, she found her snare had captured the one who had constantly escaped her.” Solas took a moment to pause, watching the reactions of the others.

“Why would she hunt elves?” Nissa, one of their gatherers, inquired. "And her own servants at that?"

“What more challenging prey exists than one with intelligence beyond beasts?” Solas asked. “As I’ve seen in the Fade, they were not always killed; they were not, however, servants by choice, but slaves dedicated to her.”

Nissa nodded thoughtfully. “Please continue, _ha'hren_ ,” she said.

“So in retribution for ruining her Hunt, she did indeed tie him to a great oak in the forest. Anaris did also arrive as your story says, and so Fen’Harel had only his wits to save him. Of the Forgotten Ones, Anaris carried his grudge openly, angered by events now lost to time. The fight was a legend yet told for ages after, as it still is today, but the two, arguing spitefully, were lost to their own rage and suffered because of it. Andruil’s own hunted slaves returned and freed Fen’Harel while their mistress slept.” Solas returned an arm to Erafen’s back.

Keeper Hawen seemed to consider this version. “An interesting re-telling, to be sure, and from it we can learn the lessons of arguing with others while we may have a common foe.” The struggle in his eyes, however, indicated her was unsettled by the revelation of the nature of Andruil’s hunt.

“Perhaps like we are with our city kin,” Erafen said, shifting topics slightly. “We curse each other, calling names and slinging insults for different choices, when in reality, we could be working to the betterment of our kind.” She told them of what happened with Clan Lavellan, of the bandit attacks, the human lord’s plans, and how, with the aid of the Inquisition, they now have a home and a future.

“ _Da’len_ ,” Hawen said, “would you have us forget our ways for the sake of progress?”

“Is your history more important than keeping your people alive?” Blackwall spoke up. “And please, I mean no disrespect. Sometimes giving up the past for a better future is a good way.”

“There’s no reason to forget,” Erafen said, answering. “Keeper Deshanna has found willing listeners among the City elves in Wycome. The old tales live, and yet there are still hunters among the People, still those who practice the crafts of old, and they thrive. We follow _Vir Adahlen_ — but do not the trees also have roots? They grow and spread, but they are stronger for their thick sturdy trunks and intertwined roots.”

“You speak with wisdom, _da’len_ ,” the Keeper said with a nod. “Certainly points that needed to be made. The world is indeed changing, and it seems those who do not change with it are destined to fall and become buried and lost.”

The hand on Erafen’s back tensed, and Erafen felt sure Solas was stricken by that comment, though his face revealed little. She looked to him sideways, but he merely relaxed and rubbed her back gently.

“Loranil,” Hawen said, speaking towards the younger Dalish. “I would like you to accompany these travelers back to their home. Represent us to the Inquisition, learn what you can, and make us proud.”

Loranil earlier entreated Erafen to convince the Keeper to let him join; he practically jumped out of his seat to come thank the older elf for this chance, and then he ran off to pack.

“He is open-minded, and he will absorb what he sees. Please be First to him as you are to the Inquisition,” Hawen requested.

“I will,” Erafen promised.

Later that night, she slept in the arms of her lover, exhausted from the day’s events. His hold was possessive, protective, and she crossed her arms over his to keep his hold tight. There in the Fade, however, she wandered freely, hand in hand with her dearest, walking through the ephemeral streets of a lost elven city. The path ahead crumbled, wars waged around them under Chantry banners, and time again shifted around them to replace the scene with the same street being built years earlier.

“ _My love?_ ,” she asked him.

“ _Hmm?_ ” he wondered.

“ _Where does one find such stories of our gods? We tell these stories, but in my mind, it seems to only make them… less gods and more people,_ ” Erafen said.

“ _Because they were not gods, only powerful, and the very powerful to those without that level of power can be seen as such,_ ” Solas said. “ _The danger is that these 'gods' start to believe it. Their power grew over centuries, and reverence in leadership turned to reverence as worship. Monuments and palaces dedicated to them became shrines and temples. These were places of power._ ”

Erafen nodded, stopping to watch a young elven girl dressed in gossamer robes play with a kitten, laughing. Another flash of memory, and the girl as a young woman lay dying in the street under a human’s blade.

“ _Faith can uplift. Fanaticism can destroy,_ ” she observed.

“ _And Will can overcome_ ,” Solas told her, and he continued to lead down the shifting path ahead.


	19. Tel'vir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erafen makes fashion choices. Grey Wardens make BAD choices.

Frowning sharply, Erafen shook her head. “No, _no_! How can I move in fabric so stiff?” She turned to Josephine imploringly.

“We do need to present a unified front,” Josephine said. “What other way?”

“What if we kept similar elements and changed styles? Surely we can take Ferelden fashions for my gown, something elven for Erafen and Solas?” Miryam asked, thankfully taking Erafen’s side.

“I can call new designers, I suppose,” Josephine relented. “Elven fashion, however? I do not intend to offend, but there really… isn’t much high fashion among elves these days.”

“Leave that to me,” Erafen told Josephine. “How long do we have again?”

“Six months until the ball in Halamshiral,” Josephine lamented. “Barely any time!”

"I would argue, but given what else is on our to-do lists, that is a scarce amount of time, indeed," Miryam agreed. "A shame this is as important as closing rifts and fighting off demons."

"And Venatori, bandits, and running odd jobs for everyone in Thedas," Erafen added. "I meant to ask if you've spoken with Varric."

"I did, and I met his friend. You remember the row with Cassandra?" Miryam answered.

"How could I forget. I thought she'd re-break his broken nose!" Erafen exclaimed.

"Well, it was over Hawke being here. You might have seen her," Miryam replied.

"That was Hawke? The mage with the dark red hair walking around with our resident storyteller?" Erafen asked.

"No wonder Cassandra was so very upset," Josephine said, looking up from her papers briefly. "And Erafen, be here tomorrow early. We will have you measured first, and then Miryam. If you are to present designs, I need them within two weeks."

"We talk about the Champion of Kirkwall, and our lovely Josie is still fashion-focused," Miryam said, grinning crookedly.

"This is important!" Josephine protested.

"There, there, Josie," Erafen said, amusement in her eyes. "It is important, and we shall try not to make this more difficult."

The women continued to chat over the present situation, but already Erafen made plans to talk with a few people very shortly.

\----

"How did the ladies of Arlathan dress?" Erafen asked Solas as they shared a lunch of simple fruits and cheeses.

The older elf paused, chewing thoughtfully as he raked his eyes over his love. "With an environment of magic everywhere, weather was not as much of an issue. In many Elvhen cities, climate was controlled, so clothes were more artistic, less 'sensible' as there was little need. Gentle rainfalls were allowed, so there were more resistant clothes, but only servants and the lower castes needed utilitarian garments. Is this about Halamshiral?"

"It is," Erafen affirmed. "We were discussing that instead of us all wearing something identical and boring, we chose a few elements that everyone share and wear something representative of our diverse backgrounds. The Dalish have no need for formal wear, but..."

"...you wished to dress up," Solas supplied, amused. " _Vhen'an_ , you will have something to wear that will show the humans the grace and splendor they have suppressed for an age."

"And you?" Erafen managed.

"Perhaps," was all Solas said, but it was clear he considered it. The two of them could make a rather striking impression on the humans at Halamshiral to the benefit of both the Inquisition and elves. “Let me surprise you. It will be a gift.”

“I have nothing to give you in return,” Erafen told him, still pleased beyond measure at the offer.

“I need nothing other than to know you are here,” Solas said sincerely. “I have been alone so long until circumstances let our paths cross.”

“ _Emma lath_ ,” Erafen managed, leaning her head on his arm.

“ _Vhen’an_ ,” he replied, so quiet she might not have heard it if she wasn't so close.

——

The peace of that day was not to last. After a short few days, Miryam, Varric, and the mage Erafen now knew to be Alona Hawke were setting out on horseback at a rapid pace. She knew they were heading to Crestwood, but she didn't know why, and Leliana was tight-lipped about the entire thing. It set Erafen on edge, and she buried herself in work, making sure loose ends were tied up and that things were ready for her friends’ return.

Over a week passed, and only Varric and Miryam returned, the later all but leaping off her horse as an attendant came to take the steed to stable.

“What’s wrong?” Erafen called out, meeting the Inquisitor half-way.

“Call the Circle, have Bull bring Krem. I want you there, of course. We have troubles, big ones brewing,” Miryam breathlessly related.

“On it,” ‘Fen promised, and went around gathering the spread out group. They met below, in the disused hallway near the kitchens where a table and chairs were set up to accommodate the lot.

“Thank you all for coming so quickly,” Miryam said, still in riding leathers. “We have a rather dire situation, and I will need the lot of you standing ready.”

“And this couldn't wait for the War Room?” Cullen asked.

“Clearly this is important if you have gathered all of us,” Josephine said.

Miryam took a breath, and then laid it out. They’d met with Ser Stroud of the Grey Wardens, and he related how the Wardens were being Called, summoned to their deaths in the Deep Roads, and to combat it, there was a plan to use blood magic in a ritual intended to stop all future Blights.

“There was a Venatori, a Tevinter mage named Livius Erimond,” Miryam continued. “He’s behind this. They’re summoning demons.”

“The future you saw involved a march of demons across Thedas,” Erafen said, pieces falling into place.

“And this means we must lay siege,” Cullen spoke up. “This is why you wanted everyone when you told this.”

“There is planning to be done, and I want everyone in this room and all under their command,” Miryam nodded at Iron Bull, “to be prepared. We will plan the attack, but I will need a select few with me for the push. We have little time to plan, but I will let you decide, of course with my approval.”

“You can count on my boys,” Bull spoke up.

“Erafen, I know you have grown as a mage, but I ask you to stay with the rearguard. I need someone to continue if… I cannot,” Miryam said.

“As you wish,” Erafen answered, understanding even if she didn't like it.

“Good.” Miryam let out a sigh. “You are all such good friends. I could do none of this without you. Please go rest, prepare, what you need to. Cullen, Leliana, Josephine, Cassandra, let’s take this to the War Room.”

“At once,” Leliana agreed.

Even after the four left the room, the remaining people stayed to discuss.

“Blood magic,” Vivienne said, nose wrinkling in disgust. “How very distasteful. How could the Wardens truly believe any good will come of it?”

“They are desperate,” Erafen suggested.

“They’re stupid!” Sera interjected. “Summoning demons? Blood magic? Aren't they supposed to protect us from this shite?”

“Erafen is correct: these are the actions of desperate people. I do not approve of the Wardens’ actions, though I suspect neither do many of us here,” Solas said.

“Not like they’re the first stupid desperate people,” Krem pointed out. “Usually ends badly for them.”

“Blackwall, you haven’t said anything about a Calling,” Dorian pointed out.

“Because I haven’t felt it. I was on my own, remember?” Blackwall countered, frustrated.

“None of us understands how it works, so let’s not make assumptions, please,” Erafen said, hands up to placate the others.

“It’s still stupid,” Sera muttered.

“Well, we can expect to move soon, so I need to get the Chargers ready,” Iron Bull said. He walked around the table to head back, stopping to pat Erafen on the shoulder. “You got this, Mini-Boss.”

“The Chief isn't wrong there,” Krem added, following the Qunari out.

‘Fen said nothing, merely watched the two leave, and she turned to the others.

“The group covering Miryam should be diverse,” she finally said. “And if I were her, I’d bring a combination of magic, speed, and force,” Erafen said.

“Darling, who do you think she would bring?” Vivienne asked plainly.

“Cole for his speed and silence. Cassandra for her balanced skill and power.” Erafen paused, frowning. “And Solas, being easily the most knowledgeable of us and a strong healer. If she were to ask me, that’s who I would send.”

“And the rest? Rearguard?” Dorian wondered.

“I don’t think that’s what’ll happen. Miryam has always been concerned with what will happen to the Inquisition should she die. Bull will likely have his Chargers as a force. That leaves Vivienne, Dorian, Sera, Varric, Blackwall, and me. Planning more without knowing what the lot in the War Room decide does us little good. We should prepare,” Erafen told them.

"My dear, we can see where this is going. Cullen all but confirmed it," Vivienne spoke up. "So speak, let us make a tentative plan, and you take it to the War Room. Adamant cannot stand against the Inquisition."

Erafen frowned again, slowly nodding. "If it were up to me, however, I would keep you, Vivienne, with our lot of Templars; your skills as Knight-Enchanter would do the most good there."

"Indeed," Vivienne said with a nod. "And the rest?"

"Sera and Varric are both hard targets and skilled archers. I would put them at the main gates to cover the escape of any Warden who see the error of their leadership's ways," Erafen continued. "And of course, the escape of our own injured."

"Now we're talkin'," Sera said with a wild grin.

"Blackwall, I would suggest having you command a contingent of Cullen's skirmishers to follow after Miryam's path, keep the way out clear," Erafen added.

"Wise," the Warden told her.

"Dorian, I would keep you with me, but we should have a watch-post somewhere," Erafen said. "I'm not content staying where I can do little good, and you're too much of a showoff." She finally cracked a smile though her growing headache made it closer to a grimace.

"My dear, you have illustrated why the Inquisition has benefited from your presence, despite any misgivings I had at the start." It was the closest Vivienne would come to an apology for her earliest assumptions. "Now we should make our preparations. Let us know if the War Council accepts your suggestions."

It was a dismissal, but Erafen was grateful for it. She was even more grateful by the feeling of slender fingers brushing against her hand under the table. Erafen would have taken her steps despite her lover's approval, but having it encouraged her.

"I will do so," 'Fen said, standing up. "I am sure Miryam will call us back together when they're finished. I will see you after." She nodded to them, but left by way of the kitchen. When she stepped back out with a basket of tea and cheeses, the only one there was Solas.

" _Vhen'an_ ," he began, "I must tell you something important. It is something the Inquisitor knows, but you should as well."

"I'm listening," Erafen said, feeling dread in her core.

"The orb our enemy carries is elven in nature," he told her. "What I did not tell Miryam is that it is an ancient artifact from the days of Arlathan. She believes it based on those used in Tevinter. The truth is the reverse."

"Tevinter used orbs like that from what they stole from our ancestors," 'Fen realized.

"Meaning it must be retrieved at all costs," Solas told her. "Miryam's Anchor puts her best in that position."

Erafen paused, her overactive mind already putting things together. Solas told her not long before that he was on a quest for the People, that he was putting something right, and now he knew far more about the orb than he let them know. There was the veilfire that one night. She recalled how he spoke of events in Arlathan and of the elven gods with the conviction of experience. Did he truly see so clearly in the Fade? Had the spirits there revealed such things to him in his time there?

"' _Ma lath_ , I am positive Miryam will do her best. Thank you for trusting me with this," she finally replied.

"You needed to know," Solas told her simply. He walked forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I do trust you.”

"I will speak of this to no one other than Miryam," she replied, closing her eyes for one lingering moment. "And now I _must_ go."

"I shall not keep you," he told her, and Erafen dashed off to deliver both food and news to those in the War Room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a tumblr now for DA:I, this fic, and Elvhen language at fenenaste.tumblr.com if anyone is curious. I'm still putting it together, so please be kind. =)


	20. Banal'vhen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adamant. 'Nuff said.
> 
> Also, I have a new tumblr for things related to this fic: http://fenenaste.tumblr.com/ -- people can leave me asks and submit related items. =)

Erafen had experience in fighting. She had, in days past, struggled with bandits and demons and the undead. With her clan, she also fought off those who would harm her people.

Adamant was something else entirely.

She and Dorian were set up on a tower at the main gate when it was secured, attacking demons and providing barriers for those guarding the gate. The dead and dying lay below and all around, the sounds of battle cries and fear and rage roaring through Erafen's ears until it became a dim constant hum. She caught glimpses of Miryam's party on the battlements here and there; it was the one source of relief she had in all of the nauseating violence around her.

At the point the battle seemed to be calming, a roar sounded overhead, and Erafen looked up to see the same dragon from Haven soaring above them to land on a tower closest to where she realized the Inquisitor and her party to be.

"No," she managed.

"Sweetling," Dorian said, voice warning. "We must hold our post. Trust them."

"I... I know," Erafen replied, her voice breaking. With all of her willpower, she forced herself not to watch, but when the beast rose up and seemed to be chasing something, she let herself cry out, attacking a demon with more force as if it were the dragon.

"Erafen," Dorian warned her, but he stopped casting. There was nothing left to attack in the courtyard and no enemies they could reach, and now he watched with her, a hand on the elf's shoulder. A few moments later, and he dropped his staff to restrain his friend.

"No, I have to go to them!" Erafen shouted, watching helplessly as a section of bridge, easily seen from their point, began collapsing. On it, she saw her friends running, trying to escape the crumbling disaster behind them. Miryam fell first, Solas after her, Hawke and Stroud and then Cassandra and Cole. She lunged once, but then shielded her eyes as a flash of emerald green appeared beneath the falling party.

"The Fade... a rift opened, swallowed them," Dorian said, astonished.

The fight left Erafen then, and she collapsed to her knees, staring numbly at the stone beneath her as her mind tried to make sense of what she witnessed. No mortal could enter the Fade, yet she just saw it happen. That could mean they were still alive. She pushed herself up again, latching onto that one piece of hope, and she turned around to call out.

"Commander!" her voice rang across.

"First!" came the reply from Cullen.

"Secure the fortress. Move our troops in. This fight is not over!" Erafen held her staff overhead.

"Troops!" Cullen said, turning behind him for the last group held in reserve. "As our First says. Secure the fortress!"

Erafen lowered her staff, leaning against it for support, and again Dorian's hand returned to her shoulder.

"You saw what I saw, yes?" he asked.

"I did. They fell into the Fade. That means... they are not dead. Not until we know for certain," 'Fen replied. "And yes, I know the implications. The last mortal to do this was Corypheus."

"If Andraste or the Maker or anyone is watching, I then pray for their return -- preferably unscathed," Dorian said. "Come, sweetling. Let's get down from here and see if we can be useful among the troops."

"Just a little longer," Erafen said, as if she were telling herself this. "Let's go."

There was, indeed, still fighting to do, but the Wardens were essentially defeated, those not surrendering falling to Inquisition blades, arrows, and magic. A number of Wardens turned on their fellows, assisting with the fight. They made it to the central courtyard, the place sacrifices were made in the ill-conceived ritual. Erafen readied herself to strike down another mage, when a flare of that same sickly jade burst from the central platform, and from it emerged those she'd seen falling only moments before.

Erafen felt tears gather in her eyes in relief at the return of her lover and her dearest friend, and it took all of her self-control to stop herself from running to them. Solas did catch her eye, however, giving her a discreet nod and the ghost of a smile.

Ahead of the group, Miryam grimly examined the scene, and with the closing of her outstretched left hand, the rift behind them closed, and all of the demons remaining collapsed and disintegrated into pulp. Cheers erupted; the battle was won.

"Inquisitor," an agent called out. "The arch-demon left when you entered the Fade. Commander Cullen has the Venatori agent in custody."

Erafen stood back, watching the aftermath unfold. Hawke encouraged the Inquisitor's silence as to the truth in the Fade, which Erafen could find no fault in. Let these people have their faith. She could agree on that.

A Warden in blood-spattered armor approached, pledging service to the Inquisition. Miryam glanced to Erafen, who only shook her head slightly. No, they couldn't be trusted.

"Warden Stroud died striking a blow against Corypheus. His sacrifice meant we could stand here this day," Miryam said, though it was clear to Erafen that her human friend wanted to berate the Wardens for their folly.

"Inquisitor, we have no one left of any significant rank. What do we do now?" the Warden asked.

"The Wardens are banished from Orlais," Miryam said, and Erafen let out a momentary sigh of relief. "You are all vulnerable to Corypheus and the Venatori; I will not have you endangering others while he remains a threat."

"Yes, Inquisitor," the Warden said, his voice heavy with regret.

"And me?" Blackwall wondered, stepping out from the background.

"Of course you stay," Miryam said. "Wardens, you have two weeks to leave Adamant, and your actions will be under Inquisition observation. I would see the grounds cleansed of corruption even though this place will forever be stained with the blood of your sisters and brothers. Adamant will become a stronghold of the Inquisition."

The Inquisitor gave her instructions, and then the group turned to head to the camps outside of the fortress. Away from watchful eyes, Erafen turned to her friend to offer comfort, letting Miryam vent out what they saw in the Fade.

"I thought you would want to go right to Solas," Miryam said.

"Solas needs to tend to Cole," Erafen explained, letting the human lean on her shoulder in the small tent. "You are my priority."

"We found markers of the dead, spirits we could send on to their rest," the other woman continued, letting her eyes close. "We found a plot of gravestones. Our names were on them, along with our fears. The one for Solas said his fear was dying alone."

Erafen tensed, but she forced herself to relax. "Did you see one for me?"

"I did," Miryam said. "Being lost?"

"Lost to what I learn, forgetting who I am, who I was. Becoming someone who does not remember."

"Oh, my friend," Miryam said gently. "You will never lose that. We will help you remember, and you will help us."

Erafen said nothing to that, merely holding her dear friend tightly. "You are my family, Miryam. I love you very much," she admitted.

"As I love you. You are a sister and friend to me," Miryam told her.

"The love of friends can be as great as that of a lover," Erafen said. "My people say this. Humans tend to think of love in terms of romance or kin, but the experience, the feeling, is far greater than those limitations."

"We are a narrow lot, us humans," Miryam said, making a weak laugh.

"As are the Dalish," Erafen admitted. "As are the dwarves, as are the City elves, as are the Qunari. We all have our narrow views. The Inquisition changes that."

The two women fell into silence, and Erafen ended up helping her friend into her bedroll before seeking her own tent.

She found Solas waiting for her, a small tub of steaming water prepared with a fire glyph to prevent it from cooling.

"There are no rules that say combatants must go to bed filthy," he told her.

Erafen said nothing, but she offered Solas a tired smile. The two maintained silence, helping each other to undress, and then to clean the blood and grime off their skin. They lingered over minor injuries, too tired to heal them properly but trying anyway. Clean, they barely managed to tumble into their shared bedroll, almost immediately falling asleep to meet in the Fade.

\----

When they returned to Skyhold, Erafen entreated Solas to talk about what he saw, which he did, but he was evasive when his fear was mentioned. She quickly took it that it may be related to that thing he couldn't tell her, so she was quiet about it. Even with that barrier, their relationship grew stronger. There was no desperate fear of loss but more of an appreciation of the precious time they spent together. The fear still existed, but it no longer sullied the present.

Erafen continued in her duties, pleased that she wasn't the only one spending time with a loved one. Miryam and Cullen found time for each other, and Erafen did her part to make sure the pair were not interrupted. Surely if anyone needed the comfort of a lover, it was the Commander and Inquisitor.

A week passed since their return, and Miryam finally had time to hold Court for the trial of the Inquisition's enemies. First, it was the Venatori agent, Livius Erimond. It surprised no one that he wanted to die for his master. Miryam's decision, however, floored the elf.

"You wish to die? I deny you this," Miryam said, anger finally coloring her voice. "You made the Wardens forget their oaths. You made them forget themselves. Therefore, it seems only fair that you be changed, forced into what you find anathema to the essence of what you are."

"No," Livius muttered, guessing as to what came next.

"You will be interrogated first, then you will be made Tranquil and interrogated again," Miryam decreed. "After which point, if you are of no more use to the Inquisition, you may be sent to the Wardens for final punishment."

Erafen watched the Tevinter man struggle against his bonds, protesting. Tranquility was the worst punishment she could consider, the sentence making her feel sick. With Miryam's reasoning, however, she could find no fault. Surely the Wardens living with the consequences of their actions, the memory of slaying their fellows for a lie, would mark them for the rest of their days. She glanced up at her friend, noting that the woman on the throne before the Court carried the same expression of distate Erafen did.

"Fitting," Vivienne said from next to the elf. "A most fitting punishment for one who misuses his gift."

"I find the fitting part the loss of his self," Erafen said, not fully trusting her voice. "I am more surprised Miryam went there."

"As am I, darling, but you and I witnessed the atrocities at Adamant," Vivienne replied, almost gentle in her tone. "We both know our Inquisitor does not pass this punishment lightly."

"If she did, I'd wonder who exchanged my friend for a monster," Erafen said. "But... no, it's fitting in this case. Any other punishment would play into this arsehole's fanaticism."

"Indeed," the First Enchanter said with a firm nod. "Looks like the next one is ready. A Warden!"

The women watched as a Grey Warden, Ser Ruth, was presented to Miryam for judgment. She begged for the Headman's axe and public humiliation, unable to endure the crimes she committed under the Venatori's influence.Miryam leaned back in her seat, trying to keep her expression neutral, but it was clear she was moved by the words of the Warden.

"You leave me with a problem," Miryam said finally. "If you wanted death, I could send you to the Deep Roads, but I fear you would protest that it serves no warning. I could put you in stocks and put you to hard labor to make that example as well."

"I am yours to do with as you will," Ser Ruth said, nodding.

"I could pass forgiveness in the name of Andraste,or I could refuse to judge you," Miryam continued. "But I have another idea."

Ruth looked up curiously at Miryam, confused.

"You were led astray, and you committed crimes that may even pale in comparison to other things the Wardens have done," the Inquisitor said. "And you have your own guilt to eat away at you, as you should. I will have you in stocks for one night, enough that those in residence here will see your shame. Afterwards, I will have you serve the Inquisition. You will be under guard constantly, and you will not be permitted to stay at Skyhold. Instead, you will go town to town, helping to fortify and spread the word of what we are doing. When Corypheus is defeated, you will return to your fellow Wardens."

The Warden blinked hard, unsure of herself or how to react, and then she nodded. "You are giving me the chance to atone."

"I am," Miryam said. "Tell the people you meet of the Venatori, how to recognize them, and what they are capable of."

"I will, Milady Inquisitor," Ser Ruth promised, bowing once. Her shackles were removed, and she was led off to begin her punishment.

"Are there any more to judge?" Miryam asked.

"No, Inquisitor," Josephine said.

"Court is dismissed," Miryam announced, and she turned to head to her quarters.

"Go to her, my dear," Vivienne said. "I will see to the nobles."

Erafen nodded her thanks to Vivienne, and she darted off quickly to the door opposite the hall to check on Miryam. She found the human woman sitting on the floor at the foot of her bed, face in her hands. Sitting next to the Inquisitor, Erafen gently nudged her with an elbow.

"I ordered a man Tranquil," Miryam said, not looking up. "I swore to myself I would never do it, and yet..."

"He deserved it," Erafen said. "He would never feel remorse. His plan was a blow against our goals, even though he failed. We are out a powerful ally, and we used quite a bit in the way of resources to attack Adamant. I saw Ser Ruth. She can't be the only one so affected."

"But Tranquility," Miryam said, muffling a sob in her hands. "How can I do that? No other mage could trust me now."

Erafen sighed. "I think you don't give yourself enough credit. Stay in tonight, rest up, and leave the explanations to me and to Vivienne. We'll send Cullen up naked."

Miryam choked out a laugh, finally looking up. "That _would_ cheer me immensely. Are you sure, 'Fen? Seriously?"

"Well, we'd have a robe on him first. Can't have the Commander of the Inquisition's Forces jumping about with his bits in the air," Erafen teased.

"Shut it! You know what I meant!" the human said, now clearly distracted by the mental imagery.

"It will be fine, Miry, you'll see. Trust me in this," the elf said gently. "Don't beat yourself up over this."

Miryam let out a long sigh. "I will try. By the Maker, I am so tired."

"Rest then," 'Fen told her. "And for the record, I _will_ send Cullen up. His potential state of undress is up to you -- ow!" She laughed, rubbing the spot on her arm where Miryam smacked it. "Right, I'm off before you injure me!"

"Go on with you," Miryam said, laughing even as she wiped away her tears.


	21. Felas'enaste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We start with slow dance to build favor for the Inquisition in Halamshiral.

The thought of parading around a bunch of humans at the Winter Palace might have set Erafen into hyperventilation if not for the very steady people helping her. Even Miryam was not as nervous as the elf, having grown up nobility. Erafen managed to beg her way into one expedition, investigating what turned out to be the ruins of a temple dedicated to Dirthamen. When she returned, however, it was right back into the fine art of Courtly Graces. One of the few exciting points was when she got to finally try on the dress a few days before the Ball.

"Your beau is quite the accomplished artist," the seamstress said. "I have seen nothing like this. Orlesian ladies will be flocking to follow the style."

The dress was made of blue, violet, and white gauze and silk, layered in such a way that the ends seemed to be like the crash of waves over Erafen's feet. The sleeves were belled in such a way that they seemed to flow like water. It was open at the chest in a deep V-shape, daringly so, but not much different than what Vivienne preferred to wear. Clasps and adornments were of a polished copper-gold, much like Erafen's hair. It was a striking ensemble, and what was more, it was _comfortable_. Her feet were to be wrapped as most other elves' were, but the wrappings would be laced with chains of the same copper as the rest of the dress. A deep blue sash was set to drape low on her waist, clasping at the center with the crest of the Inquisition.

She was intensely pleased that Solas agreed not to be introduced as a mere servant, but as a bard as Erafen originally was to be. In her case, her status as First was commonly known; the guise of bard simply would not do.

"If only I could see what Solas has for himself," Erafen lamented, watching as the gown was gently unpacked in her room in the home of some Comte she'd only heard of in passing. They would be the guests of Empress Celine's rival, Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons. It was a serious gamble, trusting him, but Erafen trusted in Miryam's judgment.

Even with her misgivings, there was still a rather perverse sense of satisfaction Erafen had in pleasuring her elven apostate lover as he lay across a fancy bed in a human noble's house.

Solas was already drifting off as Erafen poured herself a glass of water to calm her throat. She paused at the silk-wrapped package that hid his surprise outfit from view, but no, he wished to surprise her. With one last drink, she finished her water and set the glass aside, returning to the ridiculous oversized bed to snuggle close to Solas.

" _Da'len_."

The Dread Wolf was waiting for her when she materialized. Erafen was a little disappointed to find her lover hadn't joined her, but there were times they dreamed apart. Some things were still private.

" _Ha'hren_ ," she replied with a low nod, and knelt before him.

" _You have grown in ways I did not anticipate, absorbing and expanding upon the lessons I have taught you. You have taken the essence of the Fade and let it dance with your own spirit_ ," he said. " _There is a new lesson to learn. Do you accept?_ "

Erafen nodded, but before she could say anything, the Wolf leaned in close, nose to hers, and he breathed out hard over her mouth, giving her no choice but to inhale what came her way. Immediately, she felt herself overwhelmed with mana, felt it fill channels she didn't know she had, pathways that lay dormant only to be set aflame with power.

" _I... I..._ " she stuttered, and she found herself on her side, curled up and holding herself as the primal magic coursed through her.

" _The first dose is the hardest, da'len._ "

The Wolf settled down, head on his fore paws, merely watching her intently as the Fade around Erafen melted and danced before her spiritual eyes. She was too stunned to be afraid, too confused to question, and her mind was so overwhelmed she could do little but stare. In the next instant, there was nothing, no light, no dark, no sound, no sensation. Another few seconds in her mind, and it was over. The Wolf was gone, and she was alone in the Fade, cold and oddly empty.

She woke with a start that next morning, mind racing and confused. "Where...?"

" _Vhen'an_ ," Solas breathed against her neck, sliding his hand to press to her middle and pull her tighter against him.

Erafen relaxed. For the first time in her life, she couldn't remember a single thing that happened in her dream. She only remembered breath, but even that faded as she felt the breath of her lover on her neck.

"The nightmare is over," Solas told her. "You were shaking in your dreams, and I couldn't find you."

"I'm with you now," 'Fen replied, rolling on her back when Solas adjusted to lean over her. She searched his eyes in the darkness, finding the shadows on his face made him seem more predatory than he did in daylight.

"You are," Solas agreed. His mouth found her neck and then descended, showering her with affectionate attention and replacing her fear with sensations far more pleasant.

\----

The group made quite the spectacle when they arrived, all of them dressed in finery, even Sera. Erafen felt her skin warm with pride; she held to the arm of her lover, thrilled at how well their outfits complimented each other. While her outfit was in shades of blue and violet, his continued on to violet and red in the sleeveless robe he wore over a more subdued outfit, midsection cinched with criss-crossed leather. He wore a sash as Erafen did, marked with the Inquisition's Crest.

Miryam's gown was deceptive, combining the best of Ferelden's sensibilities with the more fashionable styles of Orlais. It was made of layers of silk in crimson and gold with trimmings of blue, a sash across her shoulder with the same crest the others wore. The skirt, for all of its bulk, was removable; short breeches underneath would give her something she could move in if the needed to run, strings built into the skirt to draw it to knee-height, and then there were hidden pockets for holding a focus in lieu of her staff. She entered on Cullen's arm, the Commander striking in red velvet and royal blue sash. Miryam allowed herself to be transferred to Gaspard's arm instead for the presentation to Empress Celene.

The other men wore similar outfits, though Blackwall wore his badge on his sash and Dorian's was cut in the Tevinter style. Putting Iron Bull in the outfit was madness, according to their seamstress, and he was quite literally sewn into it. Sera wore hers as a short dress, not at all happy to have to play nice to the nobles, but cooperating for Miryam's sake. Of course Vivienne was in high fashion, wearing the most daring of Orlesian style, though she did consent to the same blue sash and crest the others displayed.

The introductions went off perfectly (except for Sera's "Mai Bhalsych"), and Gaspard was inwardly amused at the looks of shock on the faces of the others with the Inquisition apparently on his side. Miryam, however, separated off, and the lot of them were on the job.

Leliana was to be the center of intelligence, playing the Bard again with such mastery one would think she never put the title aside. When Solas opted to take a position in one of the hallways, Erafen mingled, doing small favors for nobles and servants alike. It was by listening that she took note of a raven-haired woman in scarlet, gold, and black making her way towards Miryam for a chat.

"Do you know who she is?" Erafen asked Leliana.

"I do. She and I both were with the Warden during the Blight," the Spymaster replied. "Her name is Morrigan, a Witch of the Korcari Wilds. She is advisor to Empress Celene in arcane affairs. Some say she is schooling the Empress in those same arcane arts to a dark end."

"Rubbish?" 'Fen wondered.

"Quite so, I would think. Celene is no mage," Leliana answered, amused. "Have you had troubles from the nobility tonight?"

"None, oddly. I have done as you and Josephine instructed. My replies are vague and reveal nothing," Erafen told her.

"Good. Keep that up and keep bringing me more juicy morsels!" Leliana told her, enjoying herself immensely. "Be on the lookout for this Briala; I wish to know where she is."

Erafen laughed, and she wandered a bit more, making a note to have Miryam check on poor Cullen. She was certain she heard the man refuse five invitations to dance and one offer of marriage in the few seconds it took to walk past him.

She wandered back to the hallway, finding Solas leaning casually against a marble pedestal.

"Having fun?" she asked.

"I do adore the heady blend of power, intrigue, danger, and sex that permeates these events," he replied with enthusiasm.

"I'm glad you're not uncomfortable," Erafen told him sincerely. "I feel fathoms out of my depth."

"The powerful have always been the same, _vhen'an_ ," Solas replied. "Only the costumes change. You know the steps; you are dancing beautifully."

"I'd rather be dancing with _you_ ," she lamented.

"Dancing with an elven aspostate would win you few favors at Court for our Inquisitor, but when this business is concluded? Certainly," Solas told her, and seeing no one watching at that moment, he pulled her hand close, turned it around, and kissed the inside of her wrist.

"Keep that up, we may have to find some expensive curtains to hide behind," Erafen teased.

Solas laughed in return. "We may shake a few to find others have had the same idea!"

The thought had Erafen giggling at the vision of people in their fancy clothes and masks falling out of the drapery, and she regretfully banished it to play The Game again. "I shall save my best dance for you."

"I await it eagerly," Solas replied, and he watched Erafen glide off down the hallway.

As the event continued, Erafen's opinion of The Game was that it really was quite tiresome. Why did people not say what they think? Why all of the intrigue? Then again, most realms of nobility had their own social politics; her ancestors were probably the same. Given what Solas told her, she was certain he'd witnessed it in the Fade.

 _Or firsthand_ , a nagging thought announced.

" _Fenedhis_ ," Erafen muttered under her breath. Still, the suspicion had been growing since that night under the stars. When she asked Solas a question about Arlathan or any Elvhen history, he gave it with the conviction of a witness, not a well-studied scholar. She repeated the curse. This was not the time to be questioning her lover's story but gathering information to save an Empress!

"Such language," someone said from behind. Erafen turned to come face to mask with an elf. She wore clothes more in the style of City elves, but better tailored than usual. The woman's hair was pulled up into a snood of sorts, capped over her face with a half-mask of silverite. "Inquisition, yes?"

"I am," Erafen said. "Erafen of Clan Lavellan, First to the Inquisitor. You must be Ambassador Briala."

"Indeed," the other elven woman said. "Please, shall we walk?" I would rather not be among so many eyes."

The women made their way around a discreet path and entered the library, curiously unlocked. From there they were able to talk unwatched, though they could see into the short foyer below.

"I found it curious one of the Dalish is working so openly with _shemlen_ ," Briala said. "I intended to speak with you or your Inquisitor about an alliance when business here is concluded."

"You'd do well to speak with Miryam on this, then," Erafen deflected. "But she listens to me. What are your thoughts?"

"Either Celene or Gaspard will come out the victor, that is sure, but whichever of them wins matters little if my people suffer. My sole goal here is uplifting the elves of Orlais," Briala said.

"By any means necessary?" Erafen inquired, feeling ill.

"There is little choice. But bear in mind, should an elf involved in the Inquisition contribute to a favorable outcome, I would not forget it," the masked elf advised.

Erafen knew better than to outright accuse the other elf of bribery, but having the Elven Resistance on the side of the Inquisition would be a asset she couldn't ignore. "Then I need more information. I need entry into some of the private areas of the palace."

"This, I can do. Take this," Briala said, handing over a collection of small halla statues. "These will open many of the magically locked rooms, including Celene's own chambers, unless she has had her new pet mage do any differently."

Before Briala could say more, there were voices from below, and the elves looked over the balcony's barrier to see Miryam and that woman Leliana identified as Morrigan talking quietly. Something passed from Morrigan's hand to the Inquisitor's, and the mysterious woman made her exit.

"I must go, and you must be visible to remove suspicion from your Inquisitor," Briala advised. "Remember my words." She rushed off, heading towards the library's exit.

Erafen released a sigh and slid the tiny _halla_ into one of the hidden pockets of her gown. She could throw fire at demons all day. _This_ , she considered, was significantly harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to follow my fic-blog at http://fenenaste.tumblr.com/ !


	22. Shem'enaste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dance quickens as the steps grow more complicated. 
> 
> (Also, I had to rewrite this chapter almost from scratch. I accidentally saved over the original because of oops.)

Unsure of where she should go next, Erafen intended on heading towards Leliana to give a report. Instead of this, however, she decided to do as Briala suggested and be visible. If Miryam needed the distraction, the very least she could do was be that. Providing that distraction was easy enough; all she had to do was dance with a few curious nobles and flirt a bit, drink some champagne, and make the rounds of the advisors. The hardest part was pretending to be interested in all of those people and their petty games, though she still delivered the information to Josephine. Erafen kept it up for nearly an hour before she saw Miryam sway back in, dabbing at her sash where there was just the faintest dash of scarlet.

“I was indisposed,” Miryam said as an apology. “I found the most curious thing out past the servant’s quarters, but sadly was delayed so I couldn’t look around.”

“A pity,” Erafen said. “Perhaps someone may be able to tell you what’s there?”

“Perhaps so,” the Inquisitor told her, the two exchanging a look.

“Well, I do remember Solas telling me of little cakes in one of the side rooms. I should have a nibble,” ‘Fen said, reaching to squeeze her friend’s hand gently, and she made her way off to the library again. Finding no one below the lines of balusters where she’d earlier talked with Briala, she took a hold of the rail and flipped herself over, landing silently on her near-bare feet. Just as silently, she slipped through the servants’ door and tucked her skirts in to avoid the blood pooling in the kitchen as she entered.

It took little time to find the Gardens, and with careful searching, she located another of those odd little _halla_ statues, added to her hidden pockets along with one found in the kitchen. Erafen almost laughed to think of her collection, but she had a feeling they would be needed. Why else would Briala give them to her?

A few minutes more had her in the Grand Apartments where still more corpses cooled, clearly Venatori by the marks and papers she found near them. A quick dash to another room revealed no one around, and she was faced with a locked vault door marked with symbols she knew to be elven. The _halla_ statues in her pockets vibrated, matching the frequency Erafen sensed off the door. Producing three of them removed the enchantment and let her in.

A few items were of interest, including a schematic for blades she thought Cole may like, but what caught Erafen’s curiosity was an elven locket. The design was older, not unlike the few jewelry pieces the Dalish may barter off, but this seemed like an heirloom, perhaps from the days of Halamshiral’s elven rule. She slid that into her pocket, inspired with a sudden idea.

‘Fen made it back into the ballroom in time to see Miryam escorting Duchess Florianne, cousin of the Empress, in a coordinated dance. The two appeared to be talking intently, but their words couldn’t be heard from the balcony. She would have moved aside, but a firm body held her where she stood, slender fingers on her hip.

“I came to watch the dancing,” Solas said in her ear, pressed close to her back for a lingering moment before moving to stand at her side.

“The dances tonight have all been of great interest,” ‘Fen told him sincerely. “I am picking up the steps.”

“You dance them far better than you realize, _vhen’an_ ,” Solas insisted. “You missed quite the show in the courtyard, however.”

“I saw its aftermath. I have been exploring,” she told him. “I regret that I still have missed a few partners, though be assured, my final dance is yours and yours alone.”

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her neck, but there, hidden by coils of copper strands of her elaborate hairstyle, he bit lightly against her skin. Erafen shuddered hard. Solas moved back, his expression predatory, and in that instant, she was reminded of a wolf on the hunt. “I will hold you to that, my heart.” As earlier, he took her hand gently, kissed the inside of her wrist, and bowed as a knight would to a queen.

“Until then,” Solas told her, and moved back into the crowd.

 _Briala_ , Erafen reminded herself. There would be no time for her lover if tonight was a failure.

Tearing herself away, the elven woman moved off, finding a side balcony door open. There, as she hoped, was the Ambassador, waiting. ‘Fen stepped out, sliding the door closed behind her.

“I saw some very interesting things,” she started to Briala, almost casually.

"I am sure," Briala told her, arms folded impatiently.

"This was hidden among Celene's possessions in her vault," Erafen said, and she produced the locket. "It's not _yours_ , is it?"

"Let me see that!" Briala reached for it, but had to deal with merely being allowed to examine the locket itself. "She kept it? After all of this time. I.. if Gaspard knew, she would be ruined!"

Erafen pried it back out of her hands. "It's possible she kept it because it means something to her. Maybe _you_ mean something to her."

"Maybe. Oh, Celene," Briala's voice broke. "She held onto it."

Erafen's expression softened, and even as she tucked the locket away with one hand, her free hand reached to rest on the Orlesian elf's shoulder. "Gaspard will not know. But if you care for Celene at all, I will do what I can to save her life and help our people."

"You are Dalish. Are we not, what is the word, _seth'lin_?" Briala asked.

"Words meant to divide us, keep us weak," Erafen said. "I will speak with you later." She turned, heading back in time to hear the music for the dance ending. She slid her way through the crowd, finding Miryam joining Cullen, Josephine, and Leliana.

"You'll be the talk of the courts for months," Josephine was telling Miryam. "We should take you dancing more often!"

"I thought I saw you dancing with Duchess Florianne," Leliana added.

Cullen, for his part, was trying not to look irritated or jealous. "What was the row in the Servants' Quarters?" he shifted. "I heard there was fighting."

"There was, and the aftermath was a glorious mess with some interesting finds," Erafen said. "Including the Grand Duke's dagger in the back of a Court emissary."

"The evidence is damning. Would he truly do anything to be emperor?" Miryam wondered.

"Then it will happen tonight, this attack," Cullen surmised.

"Celene cannot retreat, else her peace talks will fail," Josephine added, frowning at the prospect.

"Then perhaps we should let her die," Leliana said. There was a collective "WHAT?!" from Josephine, Miryam, and Erafen. "Hear me out. It does not matter who emerges victorious if we cannot ensure stability. What Corypheus wants is chaos."

"Meaning it doesn't have to be Celene," Cullen agreed. "Gaspard would be the stronger choice with his military background."

"Is it so wise to change our plan halfway through the evening?" Erafen asked, giving Miryam a concerned look.

"We stick to the plan. We save Celene," Miryam decided.

"Which means you need her to emerge victorious over both Gaspard and Briala," Josephine said.

"I may have convinced Briala to support Celene," Erafen said, shaking her head at the questioning looks. "The fewer who know, the better."

"Leliana is rubbing off on you, 'Fen," Josephine remarked.

"What did Florianne tell you?" Leliana asked Miryam, though she did raise an eyebrow in Erafen's direction.

"She said Gaspard's mercenary captain is in the Royal Wing and knows of the assassination," Miryam answered.

"A trap," Cullen said.

"Or a lead," Josephine countered. "It still bears investigating."

"I'll need access," Miryam said. "Cullen, get your soldiers into position."

"At once," Cullen replied. "And... be careful, Inquisitor."

Miryam's expression softened for a moment, and she nodded to the Commander. His look matched hers, and he left immediately with Leliana and Josephine.

"Miry," Erafen said when the others were out of earshot. "Let me speak with Celene on your behalf. I have... I found something she kept of Briala's, something that could threaten them both, or remind them that elves and humans can work together."

"Emotional blackmail?" Miryam wondered.

"Or appealing to the good hearts beneath the masks," 'Fen said.

"Very well, do what you need to," the Inquisitor said. "I'll be off to go trigger this trap or whatever it is."

"Be careful, _falon_ ," Erafen told her, and the women separated. She moved casually through the upper level of the ballroom, pausing to exchange words with Cassandra so that the Seeker would be ready if Miryam needed backup. Another word passed to Sera, who had a small cake shoved in her mouth.

It thankfully only took a few moments to find her targets: the three matching ladies-in-waiting who were Empress Celene's communication channels.

"Oh, we are sorry," Lady Fleur said. "Our Empress is quite busy at present."

"A pity," Erafen replied with false sadness. "I found something of interesting in her vault. An elven locket."

"We... oh dear," one of the other ladies (Erafen couldn't be bothered with their names) told her.

"We will speak with Empress Celene," the other said, and the women moved surprisingly fast for their fancy dresses. A moment later, Fleur returned for Erafen and led her back into a secluded room.

"I am surprised the Inquisitor has not brought this herself," Celene said by way of greeting, coming out to greet the elf. "But I have heard a great many things of her First. I apologize that we had no time to speak earlier."

"I found an elven locket sealed in the palace vaults," Erafen said. "You must have considered it quite valuable."

"It was... sentimental," Celene admitted. "I don't know why I kept it. Such a foolish thing to do."

"Love is far from foolish," the elf told her gently. "What made you two part ways?"

"She wanted change, wanted me to deliver it. My word is law, but laws do not command people's hearts." The empress sighed, expression regretful. "Culture does not transform itself overnight. I failed her. I should have dared more, but the past, like so many things, is beyond my command."

"You have to balance the many over yourself," Erafen said in sympathy. "Make terrible decisions." She thought for a moment on her own duties and those of Miryam. "Perhaps you kept this because you still care for Briala."

"Perhaps I do," Celene said, "but I cannot put her over the needs of my empire. Dispose of the locket however you like. It means nothing to me." The emotion gone, Celene was once more the Empress of Orlais, and she turned and left.

"I will see myself out, ladies," 'Fen told the three ladies-in-waiting, heading back towards the ballroom.

There was no sign of Miryam or Cassandra. Sera was missing, too, and Cole was not in his hiding place in the library. That must mean that they were still investigating, which gave Erafen a moment to catch her breath alone among the books. She went into one of the small offices, looking out of the window at the gardens below.

With little warning, she was pressed against the glass, a hand sliding into the open front of her dress, and breath that smelled of sweet wine and elfroot touched her neck before gentle lips pressed to the spot.

"Solas," Erafen whispered, leaning back against him even as he held her against the fine crystal glass of the window. "You're... enthusiastic."

"I would have you now if so much did not rely on our success," he murmured against her skin, teeth again finding a place to press.

"I would allow it," Erafen said, eyes closing.

"I have missed this," he continued, the hand in her dress massaging gently. "Such energy, excitement, and at the center of it, you."

Erafen knew better than to ask when Solas was last at court. The answer would be something about the Fade, she was certain, and instead she reached to regretfully pull his hand from her breast and work her way around to face him. Her arms slid around his neck, and she leaned in for a hungry kiss of her own.

"We should attend balls more often then," she teased. Before either of them could say or do anything, loud deep bells sounded, indicating that Celene would be making a speech soon.

" _Garas, 'ma vhen'an_ ," Solas said, offering his hand.

"Not worried about me being seen on a fellow apostate's arm?" Erafen wondered.

"Not anymore. I believe you and Miryam have successfully charmed the court," Solas told her, and he led Erafen out of the library and back towards the ballroom, his bearing regal and commanding respect.

Duchess Florianne was on the platform under the main balcony where Celene stood, turning to head up the stairs to stand with her cousin. Before she could, however, Miryam walked out across the floor and up to Florianne, earning gasps of shock form the gathered nobles.

"We owe the court one more show, Your Grace," Miryam said. Florianne barely had time for one witty reply before the Inquisitor gracefully verbally assassinated the Duchess, bringing out the facts that she framed her cousin Gaspard, worked for Corypheus, and tried to have Miryam killed.

"It seems I still have a _hand_ in things," Miryam added as a joke, wiggling the fingers of her left hand. "And just think, it's all so perfect. All of your enemies are under one roof."

"Surely no one believes these wild stories!" Florianne cried, flustered. Gaspard at her side shook his head and stepped away, standing next to Briala.

"That will be a matter for a judge to decide, cousin," Celene said gravely, expression icy.

Florianne called out to Gaspard, but he turned his back on her, walking the stairs up to stand wtih Celene, Briala a step behind him. The guards approached, swords drawn. The duchess fell to her knees, Miryam standing over her.

"You lost this fight ages ago, Your Grace. You're just the last to find out." Miryam turned on her heel to follow after Gaspard, not even dignifying the weeping Florianne as she was led away. A look back, however, had her meeting Erafen's eyes, and she nodded discreetly to her First.

"Well played," Solas remarked from her side.

"I only hope Celene remembers her heart," Erafen commented, earning her a curious look from Solas. She told him of the locket, of the love Celene and Briala still held for each other. "I pray they reconcile, that they work together."

"You are placing a lot of faith in love, _vhen'an_ ," he commented. "Power and politics tend to win in these situations."

"There are few things more powerful, more motivational, than what the heart desires," Erafen said. "But we shall see."

They were only waiting for a few minutes, but a loud commotion from the balcony where Miryam, Briala, Celene, and Gaspard were talking silenced their conversation. Guards could be seen leading Gaspard off, and the remaining three women walked back into the ballroom.

Empress Celene, of course, took center stage, announcing the Civil War's end and the return to peace in Orlais. The next announcement, caused shock among the nobles gathered.

"I introduce to you the newest member of our Court, Marquise Briala of the Dales!"

The speech Briala made, however, was just what Erafen was hoping for, that elves and humans could work together, that society would benefit from their cooperation. This seemed to silence the disbelief, and more than a few people seemed to truly consider it. At least a few of the elven servants listening exchanged looks of hope.

"My heart, I believe I stand corrected," Solas said. "Perhaps love is enough to cause change."

"Perhaps it is," Erafen told him, turning to smile warmly at Solas as Celene called for the festivities to commence. "Stranger things have happened. Also, I believe I owe you a dance."

He laughed under his breath, extending a hand as the music began to play. Erafen took it, and they moved to the ballroom floor to celebrate with the others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, I have both a Mac and PC, and for the most part, I'm writing this in Pages so I can use iCloud to access my writing on multiple computers. The problem being is that one of my saves didn't take properly, so when I selected what I thought was my last proper save... well, it turned out to be incomplete.
> 
> It turns out this was a good thing, since I changed up a few things and added in some horny Solas. =P 
> 
> Also, don't forget the tumblr. =P fenenaste.tumblr.com


	23. Dirth Nadas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erafen tries to have "the talk".

Halamshiral was an eye-opener for Erafen, and she was grateful that the she and Solas were to leave before the others. The carriage ride to Skyhold gave her plenty of time to think, going over the past events and discoveries from the Ball. She was actually relieved that Gaspard was no longer a player and that Florianne had been both discovered and stopped. It pleased her to no end that Celene and Briala were reconciled and that the later was now nobility. The Inquisition had strong allies, the Civil War in Orlais was over, and yet she was still troubled.

She glanced to Solas, watching him as he read a book given to him in Halamshiral. It was a tome of history and records of the elves when they still ruled the land, and he seemed to devour it with great interest. Of course she was curious about the past he hid, but she would not press as long as she carried a secret of her own. Never had she mentioned the presence of Fen’Harel in her dreams, only once asking her lover if a spirit could take other forms. He’d regarded her curiously at that, but said it could very well be.

Another issue was that she’d had a dream every night of their five nights away from Skyhold, one that began with the Wolf’s breath and ended with sudden darkness. Each time, she awoke to a numbness in her mind, but it was quickly soothed by her lover’s gentle touch. She told him only that she’d forgotten her dream, but he assured her there was nothing to worry about. Still, Erafen wondered, how could he know that there was nothing to worry about if he admitted to not being able to find her in the Fade?

There was one other interesting concern, a document Erafen held in her hand bearing the seal of Empress Celene: Briala’s first act as Marquise of the Dales was to discreetely promote other elves to Nobility, the first of such being one of the people who assisted her. Erafen accepted the title of _Comtesse de Tombes Émeraude_ , Countess of the Emerald Graves. It was just that: a title, for now. Her work with the Inquisition took priority, and the lands would be managed as before, given there were no landholders managing it at present. No announcement would be made until Corypheus was defeated, which there was absolutely no way to tell when that would be. Still, it was a tremendous honor, one Erafen felt she should take for the sake of elves all over Thedas. Solas certainly seemed pleased over it.

Erafen didn’t feel ‘noble’, however, not like she was special. She let out a long sigh.

“ _Vhen’an_?” Solas asked, marking his place in his book.

“Things are moving so quickly,” ‘Fen told him. “I feel like a large rock stuck in the rapids, being worn down until nothing is left.”

He put the book aside, taking her hand in his. “You are joined by other such rocks, directing the flow of the river in a desired direction.”

“I don’t really want nobility,” Erafen said, positive she sounded like she was whining. “I don’t want power, I don’t truly want to be important to anyone other than my friends.”

“Those who wield power best, and those who deserve it the most, are usually the ones who do not ask for it,” Solas told her. “Pride and humility are not mutually exclusive, just bound to different things. Do not forget.”

“What I do, I do for the sake of all Thedas, and for the People,” she whispered, half to him and half to herself.

“As do I,” he agreed.

“Someone should give _you_ a title,” Erafen told him, attempting to tease.

“I have no need of it, and I will work more effectively without it. You, however, are different.” Solas remained serious.

“How so?” Erafen wondered, frowning in her curiosity.

“Marquise Briala knows how important it is to have allies in the Inquisition; it benefits her to show you favor. It benefits all elves as well, having another among them ennobled,” he explained.

“This is the exact opposite of what I wanted,” Erafen said, frowning. “The Imperial Court seems less a place I could be comfortable, unlike...” She bit her lip, not wanting to call him on his affinity for such things at the Ball.

Solas gave her a curious look. Erafen shook her head, looking away, but he reached out to her, bringing her gaze back to his. “Tell me.”

“I think I know you so well, and you still surprise me. There are few things I know about you.” The words escaped, voice low. "You moved through the Winter Palace as if you were born to it."

“ _Vhen’an_ …” His hand remained at her cheek.

“Don’t,” she interrupted him. “Please. It does not change how I feel, only sometimes I can’t help but be curious. You claim to be a simple apostate, yet you carry yourself like a prince. You have this mission, this purpose. I think it will take you from me.”

Solas was quiet for a long moment. “Listen to me. In all of my years, I never expected to find someone would move my heart like this, someone who would draw my attention as you have.”

“But I _have_ distracted you. Whatever this thing you need to do, I am in the way,” Erafen said.

“You are _not_.” The words came out with more force than he intended, and he repeated them, this time gently. “You are not in the way. What I do, I also do for you. You have given me hope.”

Erafen said nothing, but she leaned on his shoulder, letting his arm sneak around hers. “You said this would be easier for you if I were the Inquisitor, if so many depended on my leadership that leaving would be impossible.”

“It is true,” he murmured into her hair. “There are so many considerations, ‘Fen.”

“I am not afraid,” Erafen said.

“You should be,” Solas sighed. “But even being named Comtesse does not bind you as being Inquisitor might. Miryam is bound to an ideal, to all of the people of the land. You are bound only to what you choose."

"I have chosen _you_ ," she insisted.

"And you still should be afraid," he retorted. "You should be bound to no one."

Erafen said nothing in response immediately after that, but let the words hang between them, thinking again of veilfire trails in the starlight and the breath of the Dread Wolf in the Fade. Solas clearly clued her in to more than he intended, and he did not try to hide it or pretend as if he didn’t realize she knew. He no longer treated her as da’len, not since those early days.

“Do you trust me?” Erafen asked.

“It is not _you_ I distrust,” Solas told her, his voice low and uneasy.

“Answer the question.” She tensed, expecting that this could very well turn into an argument.

He sighed again, however, the mask cracking enough for her to see what the admission cost. “I trust you.”

“Do you love me as you say? Truly?” She moved back to look at him steadily, expression serious, not like a lovelorn maiden but to confirm. She would not budge.

Solas turned fully towards her, taking her face in both hands. “I do." He leaned in to seal his declaration with a solemn kiss. " _Ma emma vhen'an_."

Erafen let herself be consoled, settling against Solas again as he held her tightly. "The songs lie, you know."

"Do they now?" he asked, stroking her loose hair.

"They say love is beautiful and easy, but sometimes it's ugly and painful. Sometimes it grips your heart in ice from fear, and sometimes it sets the soul aflame," she continued.

"And sometimes you tear yourself apart to protect those you cherish most," he agreed.

"That is where trust comes into play," 'Fen said. "We have to trust each other, believe that we are strong on our own, and together unstoppable. Look at Celene and Briala now."

"You say it like that, and I can believe it," Solas said quietly, kissing her hair.

"I believe it," Erafen told him. "I truly do."

He made a "hmmm", the sound rumbling under Erafen's ear as she snuggled close against his chest again. She echoed the sound, finally relaxing.

"This is no compulsion. My eyes are open," she added. "I am not afraid."

"You are real," Solas murmured into her hair. "And you have already changed everything. Nothing will be as it was."

"Of course I'm real, Solas," Erafen said. "Did you think me a dream in the Fade?" She smiled a bit, reaching out for his amulet.

"Sometimes I have to remind myself," was his response. "I have spent so long in the Fade that it can be more real to me than the waking world."

"You said nothing would be as it was," she stated. "Is that... bad?"

Solas pondered that, considering his words. "Different, and in and of itself, that is not 'bad'. I was spurned by the Dalish, and City elves had little sense of themselves and little desire to learn. You are the first to feel like _lethallan_. There was no doubt you would save me from my loneliness."

 _But you still won't tell me why you were on that path_ , Erafen thought, but then she pushed it aside. _Respect and trust_ , she reminded herself. "Love begins with respect and trust," she said aloud.

"Of which I have both for you," he murmured. "Perhaps the desire isn't a necessary component, but I have that in abundance, too."

"That makes two of us, Ser Grabby Hands," she teased, remembering their briefly considered tryst at Halamshiral.

Solas laughed aloud at that, his chest shaking under her head. "Well, I was a little drunk on the wine and environment, and, well, you."

"So are we done being serious?" Erafen laughed.

"I am _always_ serious," Solas said, trying to sound solemn.

"Mmmhm," 'Fen replied, but she fell into comfortable silence, her mind at ease for the time being.


	24. Asha'falon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Girl Time, Hangovers, and Wolf Jaws. Oh my!

For weeks after the Ball at the Winter Palace, little was heard from the Venatori other than stopping small groups of them in various locations. The Inquisitor was still busy during this time, gathering more resources and doing something Erafen considered madness: killing dragons. Of course, the materials gathered from the gigantic creatures led to improved armor for Miryam's Circle. Erafen spent her times coordinating with Josephine to make sure alliances were stable and that all parties associated with the Inquisition were effectively handled. When Miryam did have time back at Skyhold, Erafen was on expedition instead.

"When have we had time to just sit and relax like this?" Miryam asked her elven friend, drinking from her sniffer of Antivan brandy. The pair were seated before the fire in the Inquisitor's room, leaning against her sofa.

"Never?" Erafen snorted, taking a sip as well.

"It seems that way," the human told her, sighing. "Things finally seem to have calmed some, though. I'm taking this as a chance for us to catch our collective breath, but it also feels like the calm before the storm. I'm surprised, though, that you came up here rather than opt to spend time with Solas."

"And you're not with Cullen right now," Erafen pointed out. "Solas and I don't need to spend every waking moment together to be together. We are individuals, you know."

"Not if you ask Sera," Miryam said with a roll of her eyes. "Things are getting more serious between me and Cullen, though. He acts as if it's some great surprise when I confirm that I'm not going anywhere. I never really considered an after, not with what we're facing. He makes me want to."

"You should propose," Erafen laughed. "Imagine how he'd react then!"

"Think I should?" Miryam asked, grinning madly. "I can't have our Commander having a seizure before the biggest battle of his career, you know!"

The elf shook her head, taking another drink. "Boys are funny," she declared.

"Your boy isn't very funny," Miryam told her.

"I will have you know that Solas has a very subtle and mature sense of humor. Plus, he makes fun noises when... well. When." Erafen blushed.

"Oooh, do tell!" the Inquisitor pressed, pouring them both another full sniffer.

"He would be mortified," Erafen slurred, more than a little drunk. "But there are things I'd have never dreamed of using my _mouth_ for before him." She winked and took another heavy drink.

Miryam sloshed her beverage a little and took another pull. "Naughty and scandalous!" She giggled like a young girl, finally setting down her glass before she spilled more of the expensive booze. "Look at us, 'Fen. We started out nobodies, really. Thrown in Haven's dungeon, expected to die or be executed. I didn't want the bloody Anchor."

"I didn't want to be responsible for a bunch of humans," Erafen added, still drinking.

"My friend, it could have been you as easily as me, or that Cadash fellow Scout Harding is sweet on, or even that poor Qunari mercenary you help me settle affairs over early on," Miryam said. "I was just there. Now I remember it all, and it was..." She stared at the glass where it sat on the floor, frowning.

"You're getting all mopey," Erafen said, but she put her glass down, too, and rubbed her friend's back gently. "Talk if you need to."

"I was on my way upstairs. I'd forgotten a book I borrowed from one of the clerics, and I heard the noise, the struggle," Miryam said. "There he was in all of his red... red lyrium-ness." She hiccuped hard, then reached for her glass for another long drink. "And the Divine, strung up in energy. And then it burned on my hand. For all of this responsibility, these praises they heap up on me, part of me hates it. It was all a big bloody mistake! Andraste's Herald, indeed! The other part makes me glad this curse was not placed on you, though you would do it justice."

"Miry," Erafen said softly. "If I could take the burden, I would. I hated that I was made so public at first, but every time I would see you look relieved, every smile you sent my way, seeing you happy... all of it makes what I do feel very worthwhile, falon."

Miryam scooted closer, leaning her head on Erafen's shoulder. "I regret none of the things that brought us closer, that put all of you in my life. It's selfish of me to say so."

"We can't change the past," Erafen told her, leaning her head against Miry's. "But being grateful for what we have, even as a result of tragedy? That's not selfish. We accept, we live, we keep moving."

"That sounds awfully Dalish of you," Miry remarked.

"Maybe I've come to accept what the Dalish have formed in me," 'Fen replied. "And it's all changing still. There's no holding onto the past, not really."

"But there is memory," the human said.

"Mmm. There is," Erafen told her in response.

The two sat there on the floor in front of the fire, watching the crackling wood burn, both pleasantly intoxicated and feeling thoughtful. The moment was quiet, peaceful, and for that instant, they were the only people in the world.

"'Fen?" Miryam asked.

"Miry?" Erafen wondered.

"You are a blessing. I believe the Maker or Andraste or someone put you in my life," Miry told her. "I am thankful for you."

" _Ma enansal, emma falon_ ," Erafen said, unable to stop the tears. " _Ir na uth'falon_."

"'Fen?" Miryam asked, sitting up.

"You are a blessing, my friend," Erafen translated. "You will always be my friend."

The human woman smiled broadly, finding herself in tears as well, and she pulled Erafen into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "As you will always be mine."

The two continued drinking and chatting until the fire died down. Erafen wasn't quite sure when she fell asleep, but she found herself in the Fade quite before she truly realized she was truly there.

Standing before her, as he had many times before, was the Wolf. He waited for her to approach, remaining still as Erafen raised a hand to rest on his head.

" _You should be afraid_ ," he told her, his voice a tired sigh as he repeated himself. " _From the first time, you stood without fear. You took the gifts bestowed on you with a ready heart. There is nothing forced on the unwilling, and you have always been willing_."

" _I took the breath you gave me, but I remembered nothing_ ," Erafen said, lowering her hand, shame in her voice.

" _I gave you power. You are strong enough now to manipulate the energies of the Fade in the waking world. Your education continues_ ," he told her. " _That is, if you wish it to_."

Erafen nodded solemnly, and the Wolf breathed on her again. This time, she saw things instead of the force of the power knocking her out, but the feeling was almost orgasmic. The things he had to show her, however, were things she'd seen before. Summoning matter from the Fade, reaching with its energies to engulf an opponent, even stepping through small pockets of it; these were things Solas did the times he traveled on expeditions with her. Miryam's Anchor gave her a degree of the same power. Her mind finally made sense of it all.

When Erafen woke up the next morning, she didn't feel in the least bit rested, and on top of that, had a _killer_ headache.

"Hangovers are the _worst_ ," Miryam groused from next to her. Both were fully clothed except for Miryam's shoes, the women side by side in the Inquisitor's bed. Someone apparently tucked them both in and removed the human's boots, leaving them by the open balcony window. Miryam pulled herself up and made her groggy way over to her desk.

"Cullen came to check on us," she explained, looking bleary-eyed at a note. "And bless him, healing potions!" She brought one over to her friend, taking a moment to swallow her own down.

"Bless him, indeed," Erafen said, taking hers in several gulps. "Remind me not to drink like that again."

"Don't drink like that again," Miryam quipped.

"You're terrible," 'Fen told the other woman.

"You love me," Miry teased.

"I do. Alas!" The elf laughed, feeling the potion start to take effect. "And I should probably find food and attend to my duties."

"Yuck," the human said, wrinkling her nose. "Very well. I have another trip to prepare for. Shall I leave your Solas behind?"

"Not if you need him," Erafen said sincerely.

"I'll take Dorian, let him complain about trudging through water again while we run favors for Vivienne," Miryam told her. "I'm going to tell Solas to make sure you relax at some point while I'm gone."

Erafen shook her head, and she took a moment to use Miryam's mirror to fix her hair and make herself presentable. "Don't work _too_ hard." With that, she disappeared down the stairs and went to start her day.

Her first stop was, however, her own room. She needed to change into something she hadn't slept in the night before, and she undressed quickly. In her small chest of clothes, she took note of the outfit she'd first worn in Haven, the only she had at the time, and she pulled it from the bottom of the pile. It was drab in comparison to what she owned now, but as she held it up, she noticed something odd.

The trousers on them seemed too short, the sleeves of her jacket also short. It mystified her, so she tried them on. The trousers did fit over her slender hips, but the legs were far too short. She struggled out of them just as there was a knock at her door. It opened, and Solas peeked inside, almost immediately laughing when he saw Erafen struggling with the legware.

"Do you need help, _vhen'an_?" he asked, amused.

"Oh, shut it and come get me out of this thing," Erafen insisted, and she laid back as he came to work the fabric from her legs.

"This looks like what you wore when we first met," he observed.

"It is, but something is odd," she told him, sitting there nude on the bed.

Solas wasted no time joining her, sitting behind her so he could pull her back against his chest. "I am not complaining about finding you undressed," he said against her neck. "But what is so odd?" His hands rested against her stomach, but as she started answering, they wandered.

"They're too short by a few inches. They fit perfectly when I arrived. I've... grown. Solas, please, don't distract me, this is... this is.. ooooh." Her head leaned back against his shoulders when his fingers found their target.

Some time later, they lay intertwined, both equally nude except for the wolf jaw amulet Solas wore. Erafen held it in her hands, feeling its power and looking it over.

"So you have indeed grown taller, a subtle few inches," Solas confirmed as they relaxed. "I did not think anything of it, to be honest."

"Do you think it is because of learning to manipulate the Fade?" she wondered.

"It could be, but I have only seen you call veilfire and view runes," he replied, kissing her forehead. "Magic is a part of our blood, however. It can change the body and mind."

"I have..." she paused. "I have seen a spirit, one with ancient knowledge. The one I mentioned before."

"Hmm," Solas said, the sound low in his throat. "Such spirits can be useful friends. I have learned much from the oldest of them. They can change one, though only occasionally have I heard of them affecting the body." He leaned in to plant kisses along her collarbone. "I am quite fond of yours, no matter how it may change."

Erafen laughed, feeling her anxiety lessen. "So I shouldn't worry?"

"Do you feel unhealthy? Weak? If not, then don't let it trouble you," he insisted. "Instead, use and practice what you have learned. Walk the ancient paths and restore the knowledge lost to our people. This magic is your birthright."

She let herself be calmed, enjoying the feeling of her lover's attention, but then she had a thought, turning the amulet over in her hands. "I have seen the bones of many animals, but never do the bones turn black like this. Usually they are bleached by exposure to sun and air."

"This is special," Solas explained. "It is coated with a mineral alloy. Part of its material is from the Fade."

"It is the same shade as the orb Corypheus carries," she observed.

"The same material," he confirmed. "I received this in a temple, now long abandoned, years ago when I was a young man. I have worn it ever since."

"This is a focus, then?" 'Fen wondered.

"A very powerful focus. You see why I do not release it," Solas told her. He looked thoughtfully, eyes searching hers, and he took the jaw from her hand and looped its leather binding around her neck as well, bringing them closer together.

"Stay for a moment longer," he requested. "Our time together is more precious to me than I have words to say."

Erafen said nothing in reply, but she moved in closer, enjoying the feeling of her skin against his. A moment like this let her think the outside world didn't exist, that she could afford to lose herself to the man she held close, that there was no one else in the world. The two were close enough to feel each other's breath, sharing the air between them as if were all that sustained life. This, Erafen decided, was true enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ma enansal, emma falon - You are a blessing, my friend.  
> Ir na uth'falon - You are eternally my friend.


	25. Elvarel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Effort is being directed towards finding Samson, and Erafen finds herself taking a more active role.

When Erafen found Cullen, he was pouring over maps, looking intently over them, and did not notice when the elf entered his office.

"You need to breathe," she told him, announcing her presence.

"Maker's Breath," he huffed. "I did not realize you were here." He stood up politely, then swore again when one of his maps fell off the desk.

"No worries, Cullen. I'm merely here with more intelligence from Miryam. Leliana received a note while we were going over some information, so I said I'd bring it to you myself." Erafen handed the rolled parchment over.

The Commander took it, unrolling the paper to read it over, eyes growing wider, and he turned immediately to his retrieved map to make some marks. "I believe we are closer to catching Samson," he commented.

"He was a Templar, right?" Erafen wondered.

"He was once a good man, but his addiction to lyrium..." Cullen shook his head. "I do not know if Miryam has told you, but I stopped taking lyrium myself. Being bereft of it can make one mad, depending on how strong the dependence on it is."

"And he wears armor made of red lyrium," Erafen added. "Dagna is still working on discovering how to deal with it."

"You know, I thought it was daft having a dwarven arcanist," the human admitted. "Now? I am absolutely grateful for her presence, as well as yours. Miryam tells me time and again what a true and reliable friend you are to her. I am thankful she has you."

"And I'm thankful she has you," the elf said sincerely. "Being in the middle of a war against an ancient Tevinter darkspawn is hardly the ideal time and place to find and nurture love, but you two have. You're good for each other."

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck. "I pray for her safety every day. I pray for a future." The admission seemed sincere, but something he'd never said aloud.

"I will do my part to assure the two of you of that future," Erafen promised. "For now, I do have information to deliver to Dagna for her work. We will find this Samson and end his plans."

"Yes," Cullen told her, regaining his composure. "I will alert you when I have made progress."

Erafen nodded to him, and she quietly excused herself so he could return to work. Her next destination, as she mentioned, was to see their arcanist to discuss Samson’s armor.

“You know, I’m still not sure how the guy’s armor hasn’t killed him!” Dagna said, looking over the information Erafen delivered. “I can find out, but it'll be time and money. Tools, tests, and some books I remember from a Circle or two. If they aren't stolen or burned. In which case I'll need to write them, and ink isn't cheap!”

“We’ll get you what you need,” Erafen promised. “I’ll go talk to Josephine. We’ll see how long it takes. Do you have enough to start?”

“I do. This is great! Now go talk to Josephine so I can really get started!” Dagna grinned, looking as if she were a toddler presented with her very own pile of candy. “Shoo!”

“I’m shooing!” Erafen told her, laughing, and she nodded once to their forge-master in passing as she withdrew back into the castle proper. Perhaps the dwarf was too enthusiastic about her work, but she appreciated that Dagna loved the work. There was something to be said about doing what one loves.

Josephine was indeed the elf’s next target. The women discussed their options in the ambassador’s office.

“With the right investment, nothing is beyond our reach,” Josie told her, flipping through a book for a contact’s name. “I will make this happen. Dagna shall have what she needs.”

“You work so hard, Josie,” Erafen pointed out. “Have you heard from your family lately?”

“I have, and do not worry; things are perfectly under control. It was nice visiting Val Royeaux with Miryam, though what we discovered there…” Josephine shook her head. “I fear Leliana will take it into her own hands.”

“She may already have,” ‘Fen told the other woman. “I think there’s not much the lot of us wouldn’t do for each other.”

“Including kill?” the ambassador lamented.

“Well, more like break into a stronghold of assassins and rip up the contract on your life.” Erafen made a face. “Killing need not be involved.”

Josephine fixed the elf with an expression that clearly indicated the notion was ridiculous. “My friend, that was almost funny.”

“Almost, but grim, I know,” Erafen said with a shrug. “Well, let’s trust Leliana to be a professional.”

“As always,” Josephine said, finally smiling.

——

After a few days, Erafen was relieved to find that Josephine not only gained the resources Dagna needed, but even a few extra tomes and papers on lyrium itself. The First found herself again in Cullen’s office, looking over the information.

“She’s made quite the discovery,” Cullen told Erafen. “We’re close to tracking Samson down thanks to everything Miryam sent back. Once she’s returned from handling this affair with the Qunari, we should be ready to strike.”

“Iron Bull seems excited about a potential alliance,” Erafen pointed out. “How do you feel about it?”

“I don’t truly know, but the Qunari are fierce combatants, skilled in arts of war. We could stand to have them as an ally, but I don’t see it lasting past Corypheus’ defeat,” Cullen replied. “Honestly, I think we are still capable without them.”

“Hm.” Erafen frowned, but she gave a nod of understanding. “Well, let’’s trust Miryam to make the best decision. As for this Samson, I suggest discretion in the planning.”

“Of course, though I believe Leliana has confirmed the only spies that are not hers around, other than Iron Bull, are being fed the information she wants them to have,” the Commander told her.

“She has cleared the dwarf from the conclave, Master Cadash, finally,” the elf said. “He actually is a likable character, now that he’s got a more honest job. It seems leaving the service of his Carta supervisors suits him, as well does the company of Scout Harding. They’ve secured a steady supply of lyrium, and a few of the Tranquil here have already prepared potions for our resident Templars.”

Cullen grew silent for a moment, his hand a fist which he clenched tightly and released. “Miryam trusts you for advice,” he began, his tone tense. “If… if I were to take lyrium again, do you believe she would lose faith in me?”

“No, I don’t think she would, but you can do this without lyrium,” Erafen insisted. “Is the pain unbearable?”

“Sometimes. She has a way of soothing things, of helping my resolve,” Cullen admitted. “Two weeks she’s been gone…”

“She will be back soon. Hold out for her, and make sure you tell her,” Erafen said. “And if you need a friend, I am here for you, too.”

“It embarrasses me to admit such a thing,” Cullen told her, finally releasing his fist and looking up at the elf. “I appreciate it.”

“Of course,” ‘Fen gently told him. “You are strong, Commander. We can depend on you, and you can depend on us.”

Cullen nodded, not quite trusting his voice, and he cleared his throat. “Well, I am positive you have work to do. We will talk more later.”

Erafen nodded, taking the dismissal, and she turned to go. She crossed the long stone walkway, stopping about halfway across to look out over the yard. Finally faced with a moment to breathe, she considered her options.

Iron Bull and his Chargers were gone, meeting up with the Inquisitor to negotiate an alliance with the Qunari. Sera and Dorian were both with Miryam as well, having been out on the mission. The last time Erafen saw Miryam, it was only a brief stop as the Inquisitor delivered a snowy wyvern heart to Vivienne, immediately leaving with the First Enchanter to head to Duke Bastien’s chateau. Now Vivienne was in mourning, making funerary arrangements. Varric was off on business again, and Solas was painting.

“Things move fast, faster and faster and you are so real to him,” Cole’s voice spoke from her side, and Erafen looked to see the spirit-human sitting on the stone edge next to her.

“Solas?” Erafen wondered.

“Yes,” Cole told her. “I cannot always see his mind, but there is fear and disappointment and shame. ‘I have nothing left, only my pride,’ and he walked out into a world of quicklings.”

“Cole, please,” Erafen said. “These are his private thoughts, not things you can tell just anyone.”

“You are not just anyone, not to him, and he wants to tell you and fears it,” Cole replied. “‘You should be afraid.’ He is the nightmare of your…” He froze, feeling a hand on his shoulder.

“That is enough, Cole,” Solas told him gently.

Cole blinked in confusion. “But I was helping.”

“There are things we need to help ourselves with,” Erafen told him softly. “Perhaps Vivienne would allow you to speak kinds words if you let her forget you after.”

“Oh! ‘Bastien, Bastien, I have failed you, my love,’ she thinks,” Cole said, and then he was no longer there.

“Nightmare?” Erafen asked, but she shook her head. “You do not look like the stuff of nightmares, only very lovely _filthy_ dreams.” She made a smooch at him, teasing.

“Well, I have finished my current mural, and I am afraid I got paint on my back. I may need help washing it off. Interested?” Solas asked, expression neutral except for an impish crinkle at his eyes.

“I’ll wash your back if you wash mine,” Erafen replied, winking.

Solas moved forward, pressing a kiss against his lady love’s lips, making a sound of approval when those lips parted to give him deeper access. Heedless of spots of paint on his tunic, Erafen pressed closer, feeling the pressure of his aura meeting and caressing hers.

“Come, _vhen’an_ ,” he murmured against her mouth, and he pulled her back into the castle.

The shared bath was indeed luxurious, and the pair took their time with each other, cleaning off paint and dirt, taking the time to work tension out of each other’s muscles, and they retired to Erafen’s bed. Again the explored each other, taking their time with their joining, magic dancing along fingers and skin, wordless spells merging to heighten their pleasure. Afterwards, Erafen found herself still receiving her lover’s attention, his mouth at her throat, teeth scraping her skin.

“And are you now the Dread Wolf, taking me by the throat like prey?” Erafen teased.

Solas replied with what almost sounded like a growl, and his teeth sunk in deeper, not quite breaking the skin, but the edge of pain coupled with the hand that wandered between her legs had her let out a sound between a moan and a cry.

“Would it frighten you?” he mumbled against her skin, licking his way to her jaw.

“No,” ‘Fen told him, nails raking his shoulders. “I would never fear you, only the absence of you.”

Solas made no verbal reply other than a low hum, but he worked his way slowly down her form, mouth replacing his fingers, and Erafen knew nothing more about wolves, about fear, or much else than her lover’s skilled lips and tongue. Her cries were loud and heedless of any who might hear, and the louder she became, the more enthusiastic he was in his pleasuring until he could take it no longer and joined himself to her once more.

The pair rested in the dark, Solas keeping his head over Erafen’s heart, fingers resting splayed over her abdomen under her navel, stroking gently.

“It’s been almost a year,” Erafen told him. “A year since we met.”

“Never did I expect that I would be here with you,” Solas told her. “I would make this last forever, stop time outside of this room, if it were in my power.”

“Solas,” Erafen said, bringing her fingers to gently rub the back of his neck. “I would be yours even when my soul travels to the Beyond.”

His fingers stilled for a moment, and then he continued his idle movement. “You would pledge yourself to me, even with my secrets?”

“Your love is not a secret. Your love is not a lie,” she insisted. “I asked you to tell me the truth that you could, and you know what you said.”

“ _Ar lath ma_ ,” Solas repeated.

“Has this changed?” Erafen asked.

“No,” he replied.

“Then I have the truth I need,” she told him. “ _Ar lath ma, emma vhen’an_. It is enough.”

Solas said nothing aloud, but he set his hand to rest gently over her belly. His hand grew warm, and Erafen felt a curious heat spreading through her core, reminding her oddly of the Wolf’s breath in the Fade. It skimmed and merged with only the outer layers of Erafen’s own, but he did not press deeper. With this warmth spread over her, Erafen easily fell asleep, meeting her lover in the Fade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is about as smutty as I can manage. =P 
> 
> It's also hard for me to write a relationship without having some of it colored by my own. Solas and Erafen are consenting adults in a committed relationship, and as such, they would tease, would poke fun, uplift, defend, enjoy, and argue. The one fear that always lingers when one has invested so much of themselves in another person is the fear that they'll be gone someday.


	26. Tel'revas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iron Bull has a freedom he does not want, and Erafen hears a bedtime story.

Erafen was watching when Miryam, Dorian, Sera, Iron Bull, and his Chargers returned late in the afternoon. Rain pummeled them, and every last one of the party seemed far more somber than expected. Bull seemed to break off immediately, but Dorian caught his arm, a look and words Erafen couldn’t make out passed between them, and the two headed to the tavern together. Sera followed a little behind them, her face a cross between angry and dejected. Miryam moved like a fire was lit under her, making her way inside and soon appearing on the walkway to head to Cullen’s office.

Things must have failed with the Qunari, Erafen realized, and she darted downstairs, heading off to the tavern, too. Bull and Dorian were upstairs, talking in hushed tones, so rather than interrupt, ‘Fen found Krem instead.

“What happened?” she asked the Tevinter fighter.

“A rotten lot of bullshit, that's what,” Krem replied. “Bring a round over; I’ll fill you in.”

Erafen ordered some of the best ale and soon came over, finding Dalish sitting with Krem, both of them looking miserable. “Okay, so what happened?” she asked.

“The Chief has been ousted, named _Tal-Vashoth_ ,” the other elven woman said, taking her pint. “He had to choose between our lives and stopping a Venatori attack on one of the Qunari’s ships. He chose us.”

“He’s a strong adherent to the Qun,” Krem added once he’d taken a long pull. “This is a blow to more than his morale. It’s to his heart.”

“That’s why Dorian pulled him aside,” Erafen realized, understanding those two were close. “Oh, Bull.”

“The others have gone to take care of fixing up our gear,” Dalish explained. “No one knows what to say to him. How do you thank someone for giving you your life?”

“And there ain’t a one of us who wouldn’t die on his order or for him. He gave up his people for us,” Krem said.

“You’re his family,” Erafen said. “Is this really a surprise?”

“I reckon not,” Krem replied, letting out a long sigh. He took another long drink of his ale. “This is something there’s no repaying, no thanking one for.”

“Maybe not aloud, but you can thank him in your actions, in your loyalty.” Erafen took a drink, too. “And maybe a lot of beer.”

“I think the Chief just needs time,” Dalish said, glancing upstairs. “We’ll make sure he has it. Maybe see if the Inquisitor will take him out to punch a few things.”

“Punching things and drinking. Sounds like the Chief,” Krem said. “‘Cept right night now, I think there’s an _Altus_ that might be giving Bull something else he needs.” The Tevinter man nodded upstairs. Iron Bull and Dorian both rose, heading up to the top loft and the upstairs exit.

“Chief does like getting off,” Dalish said with a shrug. “So you,” she said, pointing at Erafen with her mug. “I meant to ask you, but your name is a rare one for our lot.”

“ _Mamae melava…_ my mother dreamed of wolves as she carried me,” Erafen said, looking into her mug. “Our Keeper encouraged the name, thinking that facing the fear would keep Fen’Harel at bay, would make me seem a challenge to avoid.”

“And you’re so far from your clan,” the other elf said. “Then again, so am I. I was made to leave because we had too many ‘archers’.” She snorted.

“So you found a new ‘clan’ here, like I did with the Inquisition,” Erafen said.

“Bull gave me a home,” Dalish nodded. "Now 'Dalish' is a name."

“That’s not her name, for the record. That’d be like naming me ‘Tevinter’,” Krem snorted.

“It’s Ashalle,” the blonde elven woman said. “But really, I don’t mind the nickname.” When she finished her ale, she held up her mug. Flissa, working there in the tavern, rushed over to grab the empty mugs for a refill.

“I always liked your name,” Krem said in a low voice, staring into his mug to avoid looking at this fellow mercenary.

“Well, I always liked your arse, but I don’t go around commenting on it,” Dalish teased, and she laughed when Krem sputtered.

Erafen laughed readily, pleased to see the mood between the two much more improved, and she kept quiet as Dalish and Krem masked their flirting with friendly jabs. The topic did, however, move over to Krem’s history.

“I can more than make up for what’s not in my trousers,” Krem snorted.

“Was there an accident?” Erafen wondered, confused.

“Oh, you weren’t there for that,” Krem said, straightening up. “I, er, wasn’t born a man. Grew up like one.” With that, he gave a brief explanation of being in the Tevinter military, getting found out, and meeting Iron Bull.

“So, you’re a man,” Erafen said with a shrug. “Among the Dalish, there really isn’t much of a set gender role, other than if you have the parts for it, you push out babies whenever possible. Keep the population going, or as Sera puts it, 'knock 'em out for the Empire'. If a body is able, it doesn’t matter what’s under their clothes.”

“Wish Tevinter was like that,” Krem said. “I had a feeling you’d see it that way. Ashalle here never had a problem.”

“None of the Chargers have a problem with it,” the blonde clarified. “But when you’re traveling and working, there’s things we don’t advertise. Fewer questions, fewer misunderstandings.”

“Like you being an 'archer',” Erafen pointed to Dalish.

“An archer with a focusing crystal on her ‘bow’.” Krem snorted.

“Point taken,” Dalish said, rolling her eyes.

“No worries about apostasy here,” Erafen said. “And anyone who gives you shit, either of you, will deal with me.”

The three continued their chatting, moving onto less serious subjects until Erafen had to excuse herself. She stopped to check on Sera next, the younger elf giving her drunken rendition of events.

“We found a lot out, though, about the red lyrium arseholes,” Sera told her. “But that business with the Qunari, uuugh. Fuckers. Bull’s better without them. I like Bull.”

“I think he likes you, too,” Erafen told her, reaching out to muss Sera’s hair. “And you, my friend, have finished off this whole bottle of wine. So I think you should sleep it off.”

“Don’t want to sleep,” Sera insisted. “It’s the Fade. I don’t want the nightmares tonight.” She made a whimper.

“I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep,” ‘Fen promised. “Come on now,  _da’assan_.” She took the mostly empty bottle and finished the last swallow off, then went to help Sera lay on the window seat, using a couple of quilts folded at the end to cover her.

“I saw you dead. I saw everyone dead,” Sera said. “This is what having people you love does. You see them dead, and it hurts.”

“Which is why we treasure the time we have while we’re together. Nothing is eternal. Even the ancient elves fell,” Erafen told her, sitting next to the younger elf. “But we keep moving forward and remember.”

“Remembering _hurts_ ,” Sera protested.

“As long as we remember, those we lose are always with us.” Erafen let out a sigh, and then, her voice low, she began to sing. It was an old lullaby, the meaning of its words lost to time until she’d been educated in the Elvhen tongue by Solas. Stroking Sera’s hair, she sang softly, coaxing the younger woman to sleep.

When she was sure Sera wouldn’t wake up, she stood, pulling the old faded quilt tighter over the other elf gently. She leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to Sera’s forehead, and turned to leave. 'Fen walked the battlements, taking in the cold night air now that the rain stopped. She thought to check and see if Miryam was still talking with Cullen, but when she approached the side door, she heard a loud moan, a rather masculine grunt, and a repetitive creaking coming from the upper level. With a shake of her head, Erafen turned to head out a different way.

Making her rounds didn’t take very long; anyone left awake was either busy or turned in early. As was her custom, Erafen made her way down the library stairs to find Solas before bed. He waited for her, a hand extended to bring her close.

“How are the others?” he asked. “I heard about what happened with Iron Bull. I fear I have misjudged him in his dedication to the Qun.”

“Tonight, can we speak of other things?” Erafen asked, her tone close to begging. “Sometimes I… I feel like I give until I have nothing left. I miss nights when we would stay up and you would tell me of the history the Dalish have lost.”

“Then tonight, _vhen’an_ , I will be _ha’hren_ again and tell you the stories.” He stopped to give her a gentle kiss, and he led the way out to the tower roof they’d claimed for their stargazing, retrieving the pillows and blankets they stored in the upper level to keep warm.

Once their comfort was seen to, they snuggled together under the blankets, light shining from a glyph to maintain the heat. Erafen sat between his legs, letting Solas wrap his arms around her, taking a moment to kiss her neck gently.

“So, a story tonight. A new one, I think, one about the elven gods,” he began.

“But they were not really gods, yes?” Erafen asked.

“Not as the Dalish know them to be, no. They were just very powerful elves, but they did refer to theselves as gods, and they could bestow favors on the less powerful. They were also able to share their power with others, to ‘elevate’ them,” Solas explained.

“Like Ghilan’nain,” Erafen realized.

“Tonight, I tell you a story of Ghilan’nain,” Solas said. “It is true what the stories say: Andruil was enamored with the creatures created by Ghilan’nain. The elf was truly gifted in magic, using the touch of the Fade to change creatures, to create new beings from what remained of old ones. Her touch could call life, and she was ever in the quest to make beauty. Some of her failures, though, were monstrous, like the giants and some of the creatures of the deep seas. The _halla_ were created as the perfect beast, the pinnacle of her talents. In this, Ghilan’nain was exceptionally proud.”

“Even today, we honor her for the _aravel_ , for the _halla_ , and means of navigation,” Erafen contributed. "The _halla_ are friends to us."

"They are truly majestic creatures possessed of intelligence, grace, and exceptional beauty," Solas agreed. "In those days, the gods spent limited time among the People, having grown in power and years. It took a rare person to catch one's attention, but Ghilan’nain did just that. Andruil favored her above others, but feared the creatures the woman made. Even though Andruil considered herself a goddess, she couldn't stop the new creatures."

"This was when the deal was made, yes?" Erafen asked.

"Ghilan’nain was offered apotheosis, elevation to one of their number if she would destroy her creatures. She held the magic that held their life; ending them was no problem for her. Some of the creatures, however, she found, had gained their own power and could not be stopped. Others, like the _halla_ , she loved beyond measure, and could not bring herself to end them," Solas said. "These parts I know are in the lore you know. What you have not heard is how she was so elevated."

Erafen turned her head for a moment, looking into her lover's eyes. He paused in his telling to lean his forehead against her temple, and then he continued.

"It takes part of the primal essence of the god, a sacrifice of self, to elevate another. For Ghilan’nain, it required very little, because she nurtured the spark within herself. Under her own power, she overtook and overwhelmed those who set themselves up as gods, and so elevating her was the only solution," Solas said. When Erafen looked to him again, he seemed to look far into the distance as if tracing a memory. With a small shake of his head, he turned to give his lady a small smile.

"The gods possessed a primal essence that tied them to the Fade. Even the Forgotten Ones possessed this, being among the first beings to walk the land. Ghilan’nain was gifted enough of essence from the other gods that her bond to the Fade could become like that of the others," Solas concluded. "Those of Arlathan all possessed that connection, that spark of primal energy we call magic."

"We have mostly lost it, haven't we?" Erafen said, frowning sharply. "And we are no better than _shemlen_ now."

"No, all elves still carry a faint bit of it," Solas told her. "And the spark can be fed. There are just very few who can carry it as a flame without being consumed by it. So many may be driven mad or desire more than they can carry." He released Erafen so that she could turn to face him. "When I told you before that you should be Inquisitor, it was because I saw your spark, your flame, strong and vibrant. When you spoke, you showed wisdom I haven't encountered in ages of the memories of the Fade. You displayed unmatched will and dedication. In those ancient days, one such as you might have been uplifted, too."

Erafen was still, eyes locked to his. "But I am not the Inquisitor. Miryam is worthy of it, and she leads us well."

"She does on both counts," Solas said. "But you are the first elf of this age I ever felt right calling _lethallan_ , as I told you when we left Halamshiral. You have impressed me, surprised me, and renewed faith I thought long gone. That you could be mine... I do not deserve such fortune."

She reached to press her hand to his cheek, keeping her eyes locked to his. "Whatever it is you've done or think you've done that has set you on your lonely path, you are alone no longer. Whatever it is that you think makes you one to be feared, know there is someone who will never fear you. I would be yours now and as long as my spirit exists in the Beyond."

"You do not know what you offer," he whispered.

"Trust me," Erafen said. "I _do_."


	27. Felassan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erafen has a busy mind, gambling for truth and hoping she breaks even.

That night, the lovers did not discuss their dedication or gods again. Their talk turned to the stars, to the state of elves, to the Emerald Graves, to anything but their relationship. Erafen didn't press; she knew Solas spent years of his life solitary, and that likely even being so close to her now was new and different to him. He never seemed to push her away, though. Even in the few times they argued or debated, he would pace and rant and then always return to her.

In the Fade that night, she did not seek him out, but she also did not seek out her _elgar'ha'hren_ , her spirit mentor that took the form of the Trickster. Instead, she wandered Skyhold as it showed in the Fade, seeing the place her ancestors once called _Tarasyl'an Te'las_. So many things were happening all at once between the Wolf and what his plan for her was (she was certain he was not tricking her, though no boon of a god came without price), then the timely story Solas told her, and the biggest to her, that she truly believed all elves still carried magic within them in some form. Erafen did not linger in the Fade, her mind still too busy to keep her steady in its landscape, and she woke up, pleased to find Solas still slept.

In the dim light, she looked him over, letting herself think on those secrets she had little clues on. Erafen would not pry, would not ask, but she never once promised that she wouldn't observe, wouldn't gather, wouldn't guess. There, as she watched her love sleep, she ran through a mental checklist and made her assumptions.

He said more than once he'd rather she be Inquisitor. He also told her it would make things easier for him if she were. Erafen took it that he would be leaving the Inquisition when things with Corypheus ended. He feared that she would follow.

Solas also had memories of the Fade, but he seemed to experience them in far greater detail than she'd ever seen. In fact, his memories seemed rather specific. She thought then of Ghilan'nain and the story from that night. If all elves possessed a small spark of magic, and what they knew as magic was a part of the primal essence of the Fade, then his must be a roaring fire, indeed.

Erafen's thoughts settled on this quest of his. Solas clearly hadn't intended on her knowing about it; he seemed frustrated when she mentioned it. There was something in the Fade he had to have seen that set him on this quest. This same thing, she considered, is why he set himself apart from other elves, did not consider them kin.

Without her effort, thoughts next formed into Fen'Harel, or at least the spirit that wore the shape of the Dread Wolf. When faced with him, he was always the Wolf, but when he was behind her, his hands were elven, slender and familiar. His hold was always intimate and possessive, but still did not bind.

The touch reminded her of Solas.

" _Din. Tel'dar_." She said the negation aloud. It had to be something the spirit did to gain her trust.

Her eyes returned to Solas, finding him awake and regarding her curiously. "Impossible thoughts, _vhen'an_?"

"Busy thoughts," Erafen told him. "My mind is racing too fast to sleep. I think the Fade kicked me out."

He laughed, the sound low and inviting. "Tell me," he entreated, his hand reaching to her cheek.

Erafen moved in closer, her forehead against his. "I was thinking about how close we are to stopping Corypheus," she told him as deflection. "I was thinking about afterwards."

"We must first stop him if there is to be an afterwards," Solas chided gently.

"But it is for the sake of that future that we stop him," Erafen retorted. "It's been close to a year that Miryam went to the future with Dorian. All that was told came to pass and has been averted. I believe the end is near. _Halam nadas_."

" _Banal nadas_ ," Solas told her, insisting, eyes clouding over for the moment. Before Erafen could question, he stopped her with a consuming kiss, taking her breath away. His hold on her was again possessive, as if trying to keep some invisible force from pulling her away. "I will not lose you," he said into her mouth.

"You will not," Erafen promised. She let out a long sigh. "My love, there are things I must do today, but... please, stay with me a little longer? I know you have work to do, too..."

"I will be there," he told her. Reluctantly, he released Erafen, letting her move aside to clean herself off and dress for the day. Thankfully, it was still before noon; their stolen time hadn't taken much from her schedule, and by the time her hair was braided and tied back, Solas was also clean and dressed. Even as she regarded herself in the mirror to make sure she was presentable, he came behind her, tugging down her scarf to reveal the deep discolored place he'd left at her throat.

"Marked your territory, hm?" she asked, amused.

"Repeatedly," Solas said, quite amused and pleased with himself. He released her, following her out onto the balcony and back into the castle.

Erafen’s rounds were her normal circuit, checking with the Quartermaster, seeing to dignitaries, checking with the others of the Inner Circle. When she and Solas found Cassandra, the warrior seemed agitated.

“You are late,” the Seeker observed.

“And you, my friend, are testy,” Erafen said. “I was up late taking care of the Chargers and my own sanity.”

“And Solas had little do with with this morning, I am sure,” Cassandra said drily.

“You will forgive me, Seeker, if I refrain from comment,” Solas said, not hiding his smugness.

“And I must ask your forgiveness, First,” the Nevarran said to Erafen, choosing to ignore Solas for the moment. “I have received news from the Chantry. I have been nominated to be the next Divine.”

“Oh, Cassandra, it's a tremendous honor, but is that what you want?” Erafen wondered.

“It matters little if I want it if I am elected. I am just surprised and no small amount nervous. Leliana has been nominated as well, though, so it makes me think our proximity to Divine Justinia led to us being chosen,” Cassandra explained. “First Enchanter Vivienne has been mentioned as another candidate, the first time a mage has been up for consideration.”

“Not to speak ill of Vivienne, but I fear she will try to keep things as they were, impose the restrictions the Mage Circles were rebelling against. You know her political views,” ‘Fen said. “I would rather you or Leliana, honestly. You both understand the need to break with tradition when it has failed.”

Cassandra nodded. “I am pleased to hear you say so. There is a saying among my people: the definition of madness is doing the same thing over and over while expecting different results.”

“The dog that chases its own tail catches nothing but its tail,” Erafen quoted. “We have a similar sentiment among the Dalish.”

“If you would rather lend more of your support to Leliana, I would not take offense,” Cassandra said. “But I would like to discuss this privately later.”

“I can excuse myself,” Solas offered.

“There is no time now,” Cassandra told him. “Please do not think that I do not appreciate it, Solas. You are wise and learned, but this is sensitive.”

“Of course, Seeker,” Solas replied with a low nod of his head.

“Also, I should mention that Cullen came by asking for you, Erafen,” the Seeker added. “He seemed preoccupied. I believe he may wish your input on a decision.”

“Then perhaps I may meet you for lunch, _vhen’an_ ,” Solas suggested.

Erafen nodded, feeling the weight of her duties and accepting it. “I will find you later.”

Solas merely reached for her hand, drawing her knuckle to his lips, and released it, wandering off back towards the entrance.

“I had no idea he was such a gentleman,” Cassandra remarked. “We spoke once on a mission, and he stated that he prefers offering brutal honest truth, even if it is harsh and not what one likes to hear, but he will also offer the truth if it is complimentary. We know so little of him, however. How can one be so closed yet so forthcoming?”

“He is who he is. We all have things in our past we keep to ourselves,” Erafen replied. “Who he was made who he is; I would like to know, but I won’t force it. And as for speaking truths? Someone around here needs to be brutally honest. You are like that, too, something I respect in you, and you will readily admit when you’re wrong and change course. That takes bravery and humility.”

“Solas has commented on that, too. Is it truly so rare an action?” Cassandra wondered.

“It is, my friend. It’s why I often send Miryam to you when she needs to speak to someone about a moral course of action. You have faith in your Maker, but you are also practical,” ‘Fen said. “And now, please forgive me, but I should see what Cullen wants.”

“Of course,” Cassandra said, looking surprised and pleased.

Erafen gave the Seeker a polite nod, and with that, she headed across the yard to the stairs leading to the battlements. It took little time for her to reach Cullen’s office, and she was pleased to find Miryam there, the two sitting at his desk to go over plans.

“First, I’m glad you came. Did you speak with Cassandra?” Cullen asked.

“I did; she directed me here,” Erafen confirmed.

“Cullen may have a solid idea as to where we might find Samson,” Miryam said. “Come look.”

The map had lines of red drawn across it, and going in other directions were lines of orange and yellow. They all seemed to indicate a central location.

“See here?” Miryam continued. “We’re tracking the movement of lyrium, reagents, dwarven tools, money, skilled armorers, and sightings. Quite a bit here.”

“This area here in the wilderness,” Cullen indicated. “I believe this is where Samson is headquartered. If we attack in force, we can stop him and bring him to justice. There is talk about a shrine to one of the old gods there; it would make sense given Corypheus yet follows them to a degree.”

“You’re very clever,” Erafen told Cullen.

“Isn’t he? And adorable,” Miryam added with a wink.

“I am _not_ adorable,” Cullen deflected. “But I will take the ‘clever’ bit.” He grinned. “I think we have a shot with this. It finally feels like we’re going to throw another log into the funeral pyre. I'll ask Leliana to have her scouts check the place out, and then we'll move the troops in."

"Do it," Miryam said firmly. "We'll finalize this in the War Room. I'll see if Dagna has anything for us, too, but I know she needed some of the tools used to make the armor."

"Red lyrium armor," Erafen said, shuddering. "The thought of it turns my stomach."

"As well it should," Cullen said emphatically. "This is our chance to stop him, to ruin the leadership of the Red Templars."

"I'll go talk to Leliana," the elf offered.

"Come to the War Room yourself, 'Fen," Miryam said. "You have been a big part of the discovery; you have a place there if you can ignore Morrigan being quite the know-it-all about your culture."

"I'm used to people thinking they know more than me about things," Erafen said with a wink. "Love proving them to be huge arseholes."

Cullen snorted at that. "We shall meet you there, then."

Erafen set out on her way, crossing over to beg her love's forgiveness and ask for a raincheck on lunch (he let her off easy with a lingering kiss), and she then went to go speak with the spymaster. She did not want to say so to Cassandra as she truly liked and respected the Seeker, but Leliana would be the better choice for Divine, so she thought, and she made up her mind to talk to Miryam about that later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for the comments and speculation! This is fun! I woke up this morning to find a ton of good comments in my email, so I will hopefully get a chance to address them before I have to get ready for work. I woke up early for you guys! ;)
> 
> elgar'hah'hren - Spirit Elder  
> Halam nadas. - The end is inevitable.  
> Banal nadas. - Nothing is inevitable.  
> Din. Tel'dar. - No. Can't be.
> 
> I have also discovered two fun typos: Doe Snot (does not) and Fro Mother (from other).


	28. Eluvian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At least Morrigan's assumptions led somewhere productive.

"No, cast it hotter!" Dagna insisted, and Erafen frowned in frustration, and drawing some of the Fade's energy, she had a fire glyph glowing so hot the stone underneath it glowed red and cracked. "That's more like it!"

The dwarven arcanist brought the smelting pot over the glyph. "This red lyrium seems to require a lot of heat to liquefy. I have to keep rotating this thing so it doesn't scorch."

"This sound is horrid," Erafen said, listening to the raw red lyrium bubble and squeak angrily, the sound more dissonant than nails on a chalkboard or a rusted door hinge. "If this stuff is alive, then maybe this is its death cry."

"Hell of a sound," Dagna said. "There we go, now I can forge the glyph tile. This is where more of your magic stuff comes in, elfy. Get ready to focus!"

Erafen readied herself,and at Dagna's signal, she cast a spell of fire again, this time at the heavy tile, the symbol of a sword on it ready to receive the lyrium. The dwarf poured quickly, and once the angry scarlet lyrium was in place, Erafen immediately cast ice, freezing the lyrium in place so that it wouldn't grow. Once the substance was frozen in the tile's grooves, she cast lightning to charge the glyph tile with energy. Finally, she sealed the entire thing in a spirit barrier. That done, 'Fen promptly fell on her arse, exhausted.

"Well done!" Dagna said, clapping her leather-clad hands. "Well done!! I think this should.... Ooh, 'Fen, you don't look so well."

"I think I'm going to throw up," Erafen managed, but she took the water skin the dwarf handed her and drank half of it down.

"That would have taken three of the mages from upstairs to help me," Dagna said. "It works better if the magic comes from one person. Not too many times I need a mage's help, but this one was a doozy!"

"It was something," the elf managed, finally feeling less like spilling her breakfast all over the floor now that she'd cooled down with the water. "You're positive it'll work?"

"Oh yeah," Dagna said. She held the tile at a solid piece of lyrium, and the frightening red crystal cracked. "It might not look like much, but imagine this happening all over that armor. It'd be useless."

"Oh, good," 'Fen managed, and gripping her staff, she brought herself back upright, eventually making it to her feet.

"Hey, hold on," Dagna said. "Let me get someone to help you back. Seriously, you poured out a lot of juice. I have a lyrium potion; that might help."

Erafen managed a smile, and she took the bottle from the arcanist, drinking it down. A few moments later, she felt somewhat restored, but still no less woozy. "Thank you. I think I need a five-year bath, though. I have to stink by now."

"Oh, come on, elves smell like newborn babies and Crystal Grace," Dagna teased with a wink. "Go on, rest. I'll deliver this to the Inquisitor."

Erafen managed to get to her room, taking the time to clean herself well and fall into her bed for a lengthy nap. She caught the feeling of the Wolf, but he blessedly let her be. There would be time for lessons later; she might have refused him if he pushed. Instead, she made a decision not to wander the Fade, but to rest in a pile of memory-forged cushions and think about nothing for a long while. After all, why sleep if you don't get to dream about resting every so often?

She woke closer to lunch, but her stomach was still a bit sour. It pleasantly surprised her, however, to find a plate of fruit and bread waiting for her. Once Erafen started eating, she found her stomach settling and her hunger no longer combating the nausea. Refreshed, Erafen went off to find Miryam.

"She went into the War Room a few minutes ago, my dear," Vivienne told her when the elf inquired. "You are actually just in time; I saw Leliana passing by just now. Do go join them."

"Thank you, Vivienne," Erafen said with a grateful smile. Since the great loss the other mage suffered, there was a soft sadness that lingered just under the surface. The elf felt her heart go out to the First Enchanter, and the two had a long talk only the day before about Bastien. 'Fen felt incredibly thankful for Solas that night, her mind filled with what-ifs and thoughts of loss.

Moving swiftly, Erafen caught up to Leliana, walking alongside the human spymaster as they went through the long hall heading to the War Room. They nodded to each other in greeting, finding the air anxious as they entered.

"The Arbor Wilds may be the home of many secrets, including ancient elven ruins," Morrigan was explaining as they entered.

"The evidence of Red Templars gathering there is overwhelming," Cullen added, sending the witch a distrustful look even as he agreed with her.

"T'is said a temple dedicated to Mythal is there," Morrigan continued, unconcerned with the Commander's glare. "If so, chances are an _eluvian_ is hidden in its walls. If it is intact, it could be quite the useful tool to Corypheus."

"With an _eluvian_ , Corpyheus could enter the Fade in the flesh," Leliana said.

"What would happen if he succeeds?" Cullen asked, dreading the answer.

"T'is simple. He would gain his heart's desire and have the power of a god... or, and this is more likely, the lunatic will unleash power that will tear the world apart," Morrigan explained.

Josephine, Leliana, and Cullen started their debate, arguing over if they needed allies, or if spies should go first, and then that the spies would die without army support. They went around, pointing out flaws in each others' plans until Miryam put her hands down on the table, surprising them into silence.

"Or you could work together, overcome this," she told them firmly. "Josephine, Leliana, send your best ahead to prepare the way for Cullen's troops to arrive. We will stop the Red Templars before they can advance deeper in."

Morrigan let out a laugh, but reigned it in quickly. "Do not forget, the Arbor Wilds are home to ancient elven magic."

"We would be remiss if we didn't honor your knowledge, Lady Morrigan," Josephine told the witch.

Erafen was silent during the exchange, her eyes focused on the marker for the Arbor Wilds. Something drew her attention to it, an odd feeling of something she should know, but couldn't recall.

"'Fen," Miryam said, and the elf nearly jumped, realizing the talking around her ceased and she was being looked at. "You'll be with me for this. You, Solas, Dorian, and Morrigan."

"Me? But you've wanted me to hold back in the past," Erafen said. "I'm not saying no; I would like to be there."

"And you should by there. I want the most knowledgeable of things elven with me. That means Morrigan, of course, and Solas with his knowledge from the Fade. Dorian knows magic that had its roots in Elvhen technique, and you have what the Dalish know," Miryam said.

"A battle party of all mages?" Cullen asked, curious and concerned.

"No, it makes sense. A party of mages, especially with all of our diverse disciplines, would be best for such a place," Morrigan said. "I believe the Inquisitor's decision is sound."

"I can find no fault in the logic of you both," Erafen said. "Vivienne's skills as Knight-Enchanter would benefit the troops, so she would do the most good there, and I think Sera may be too twitchy in an Elvhen temple. She and Varric would be good support as snipers."

"Very well," Cullen said, frustrated but unwilling to argue. "We'll get the plan of attack begun."

\----

Erafen tucked herself away into a corner of the wagon, sitting almost comfortably next to Solas as she read through a book, another gift granted from Halamshiral to add to the library at Skyhold. This was a copy, however, pressed and printed so that she could own one herself.

"What do you read?" Solas asked her, curious.

"A Treaty on the Pagan and Heretical Customs of the Elven, by Senallen Tavernier of the University of Orlais," Erafen said, showing him the cover. "A very interesting take on Dalish culture and language. I thought that, to better understand where I'm from, I would read outside opinions. I'm on a rather curious passage now."

Across the wagon, Morrigan looked up, her own curiosity piqued. Erafen found the passage and read it aloud.

"The Dalish use ' _harellan_ ' to mean 'traitor to one's kin,' but the word does not appear in any elven text before the Towers Age. The ancient root-word is related to ' _harillen_ ,' or opposition, and ' _hellathen_ ,' or noble struggle. The Dalish call Fen'Harel a god of deception, but I posit a far more accurate translation would be 'god of rebellion.' " Erafen marked her place in the book and looked up.

"And interesting theory," Morrigan said. "One I have not heard, though I have not put much stock in the studies of other scholars into Dalish history."

"I believe Erafen is wise to look outside the limited understanding her people possess," Solas countered. "No view should be immediately discounted, but held against the larger body of work to see what fits and what does not, all with a critical eye. Myth does not equate history, but history quite often creates the myth."

"T'is curious, this point of view from one who spends most of his time among the ambiguous and ephemeral memories in the Fade," Morrigan retorted. "Can you trust any of these memories you see?"

"Lady Morrigan," Erafen spoke up, "did you not listen to what Solas said? It takes looking from all angles. The Fade offers one point of view, as do the myths, as do the studies of others. A scholar like yourself should understand this, yes?"

"My apologies, Lady Lavellan," Morrigan said. "You are correct in this, but sometimes those other contributions can color and deceive."

"It takes a sharp mind and wisdom to be able to understand the difference," Solas said calmly, and Erafen did her best not to grin at the compliment.

"Indeed," was all Morrigan said, and she fell to silence, letting the elves continue their conversation.

"In my experiences, I have heard such things," Solas told Erafen, mindful that Morrigan still listened. "This scholar is not incorrect in assumptions of the nature of the Dread Wolf. The Dalish say he tricked the other gods out of pure love of mischief, but it could be that his motivations were more nuanced than for the simple sake of spite."

"It was the story that the gods could be tricked that ultimately started my doubt in their role as gods," Erafen said. "And then..." she paused, not wanting to tell of her experience in front of Morrigan. "Experience was a terrible teacher. While I do not believe in them as deities, I still believe in the concepts taught by my people, and understand that these ideals are just that. I took the branches of Mythal to represent my desire to protect my people... all people, to be honest."

"You are still a protector," Solas told her.

"It seems, though, that perhaps I should bear the _vallaslin_ of Fen'Harel, if it wasn't lost to time. I seem to be rebelling against quite a bit of what raised me," Erafen told him, only a little bitter. "I am not the Dalish First I was when I came to Haven."

"Did it occur to you that perhaps there is no record of _vallaslin_ dedicated to him because it was eradicated purposefully?" Solas offered. "The..." he was cut off, however, by the immediate halting of the wagon. Gripping his staff, he prepared himself.

"There is fighting ahead," Miryam said, peering into the back of the wagon. "We continue on foot and battle our way in. Cullen is giving the order to march in a mark or so."

Erafen tucked her book away, also taking her staff. A hand on her arm stilled her, and Solas pressed his forehead against hers, murmuring something she couldn't hear well, and then he went off ahead of her. It sounded almost like a benediction, a blessing, but then battle cries sounded outside, and she moved into action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I quite literally have four and a half more chapters written. I will be pulling heavily from game dialogue for the next few, but paraphrasing in some cases. Things are getting exciting! Also, it seems to me a Dalish elf would find Morrigan to be an insufferable snob when talking about a culture that isn't even hers.


	29. Vir'dirth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erafen learns quite a bit more, a lot of it shaking much she still believed in. Miryam is determined, Solas is irritated with Morrigan (and she with him), and Dorian is fabulous.

If not for the brilliant foliage and marks of ruins around, Erafen would swear she was witnessing Adamant again. This time, instead of Grey Wardens, they were fighting Red Templars. It was unique, however, that their group of mages meshed so well. Fire, ice, lightning, and the emerald flash of Fade magics mowed down entire groups of Templars, more powerful than what they could nullify effectively. It seemed the group finally found a bit of respite, following a river to hide their footprints.

"Do you feel that?" Erafen asked aloud.

"Yes," Solas replied.

"A buzz of magic," Morrigan pointed out.

"Are you lot _mad_?" Dorian wondered. "It is old and dormant. We should be cautious for now, but there most assuredly isn't time to dwell on the ambiance."

"Silence," Miryam said suddenly, and the group fell quiet. Erafen took point on this, again her experience as a Dalish coming in handy, and she went to observe. What she saw made her suddenly turn cold.

She crept back, eyes wide. "Wardens. There are Grey Wardens, and they fight alongside the Red Templars."

Solas swore, and Miryam frowned sharply. "So not all went into exile. No matter; we will stop them and reach the Temple first," the Inquisitor said.

Using the element of surprise, the group of mages were able to dispatch the few Wardens and Templars with a powerful force, even if the battle was not so easy. When the men and women lay dead at the mages' feet, it was safe to move on.

"I would not loot their lyrium potions," Morrigan suggested, "lest they be tainted with the red substance."

"Agreed," Miryam said. "We have our own. And look, there ahead!" Where she indicated, the group could see a stylized door arch leading into a long tunnel.

"That must be it," Dorian said. "Gorgeous area here. I'm not saying I'd like to build a summer home here, but the trees are quite lovely."

Miryam set off, excited and nervous, Erafen right behind her. Fighting could be heard, confirmed by a comment from Morrigan that she heard what the others did. Erafen resisted the urge to thank the witch for stating the obvious.

They quietly edged to the open balcony, looking over its side to observe those below.

"They still seek to challenge us, Master," a templar said, and given his armor, Erafen was certain that was Samson.

"They are remnants. They will not keep me from the Well of Sorrows," Corypheus told him, and walked forward to the bridge. "Be honored. Your death comes at the hands of your new god."

There was one Elvhen warrior in the way, the others having fled to protect the temple. She raised her hand, activating a statue on either side of the long walkway. Corypheus was engulfed in the electricity, his face beginning to melt, but he picked up the warrior by her face as if he felt nothing. When he disintegrated, the elf's body went flying, falling with a sickening crunch on the stone, dead.

By the time the Inquisition mages made it down to the ground level, Samson and his templars were already giving chase. Miryam was about to give the order to follow when a sickly wet sound came from behind them.

A Warden was there on his knees, a black thick oily substance spewing from his mouth like a fountain of blood. With the ripping of flesh, an armored hand emerged from the man's back, that of Corypheus.

"This cannot be!" Morrigan said in shock.

"Run, across the bridge!" Miryam ordered, and the group fled the gruesome scene before the darkspawn could fully emerge from the Warden's corpse. Behind them, they heard not only the rending and squishing of flesh but the angry roar of a very familiar archdemon. The mages barely made it into the Temple, pushing the doors behind them just in time to block a wall of fire from the dragon's maw.

"Maker..." Miryam swore.

Erafen said nothing, merely watched the door seal itself with unknown magic. She looked to Solas questioningly, but his expression was flat, unreadable, save for a small trace of what looked like resignation. Of course the turn of events shouldn't be unexpected. She turned to Miryam.

"Corypheus said nothing of an _eluvian_ ," she pointed out. "What is this Well of Sorrows?"

"I am... uncertain of what he refers to," Morrigan admitted.

"Does ' _eluvian_ ' mean Well of Sorrows?" Miryam asked.

"No, that would have ' _abelas_ ' in the name," Erafen said. " _Eluvian_ literally means 'seeing-glass'."

"No, it appears an _eluvian_ is not what Corypheus wanted," Morrigan said, scratching her head.

Everyone looked at the witch, some flatly, some with frustration. Erafen resisted the urge to snort, having been more than a little fed up with the witch.

"Yes, I was wrong! I admit it!" Morrigan snapped. "Does this please you?"

"Any other time? Maybe," Erafen muttered.

"Whatever this Well of Sorrows is, Corypheus wants it, and thus we must keep it from his grasp," Morrigan continued as if she didn't hear the elf.

"They have a head start on us, ladies. Perhaps we should proceed?" Dorian suggested.

Miryam fixed Morrigan with an annoyed look, but she turned to head down the long broken stone path. They were stopped at a platform, one with ancient script on it. "And this is why I brought experts. What does this say?"

" _Atish'all Vir'abelasan_ ," Solas read. "Enter the path of the Well of Sorrows."

"There is something about knowledge. Respectful or pure. _Shiven, shivennen_..." Morrigan shrugged. "T'is all I can translate. That it mentions the Well is a good omen."

"Then this is a hopefully positive start," Miryam said.

"This is a set path, the respectful walk in the steps of the pilgrims," Erafen said. "I think it says that."

"Close enough," Solas said. His hand brushed Erafen's briefly, pleased. They stood aside when Miryam stepped on a few of the tiles of the raised platform. I did not take long for the human to figure the puzzle out.

"The magic is still active," she announced, pleased when she rejoined the group.

"This place is a vestibule, not the temple proper," Morrigan explained. "Walking this path may be the equivalent of knocking on the door, announcing ourselves. I'm positive this was quite familiar to the ancient elves."

"And Mythal was... or is still, I supopose, worshiped as a goddess?" Miryam wondered.

"So one assumes," the witch answered. "What is a god but a being of immense power? The dread old gods were nothing more than dragons, after all. They rise as Archdemons, and they die. Mythal may have been a powerful elf, a ruler among her kind. History often plays storyteller with facts."

"You admit lack of knowledge, yet you dismiss her so readily?" Solas challenged, stepping forward.

"I do not dismiss her," Morrigan said, defensive. "I question her supposed dvinity. One need not be a god to have value." She continued on, relating accounts of Mythal that indicated the goddess could be multiple people, each account varying from mother figure to vengeful being.

"More Dalish tales?" Solas asked.

"They are the ones I grew up with," Erafen said. It confused her; Solas told her he did not believe the gods were that, but here he was defending them.

"The oldest accounts say Mythal was all of those and neither. She was the Mother, protective and fierce. That is all I will say. This is not a place to stir up old stories," Solas said.

"They all end the same, however, that she was tricked with her brethren by the Dread Wolf, trapped in a land beyond the Fade," Morrigan concluded. "Many Dalish believe this is why they fell from grace and their gods did not save them."

"The elves here are odd," Erafen said, feeling her head hurting with the conversation. How could this woman talk about elven history with such detachment? Then again, she herself often felt detached about human history. "They must be guardians here. I wonder if they might be here from the earliest days."

"It could be likely. With magic, anything is possible," Morrigan said.

"Come, we should look around," Miryam said, looking uncomfortable. "We may find things to assist, clues on our next steps."

The group ascended a set of stairs, splitting up in small groups, and Erafen called out from the side. "There's a room here." She continued onwards inside, finding another open passageway that brought her before a huge statue.

"Fen'Harel," she gasped. The statue was not like the ones she'd seen at Dalish camps, but he seemed to be calm, peaceful.

"Why would this be here?" Morrigan's voice asked from behind. "Placing this statue here would be as blasphemous as painting Andraste dancing naked in the Chantry."

Miryam joined them. "Some Chantries display Andraste's betrayer, Matherath, as part of the Chant."

"Perhaps it serves a similar purpose then," Morrigan speculated.

"For all your 'knowledge', Lady Morrigan, you cannot resist giving legend the weight of history," Solas commented, coming to stand next to Erafen. "The wise do not mistake one for the other."

"Pray tell, what meaning does our elven 'expert' sense lurking behind this?" the witch quipped.

"None we can discern by _staring_ at it," Solas replied.

"This is all lovely speculation, but we do have another ancient being to catch up to," Dorian pointed out.

The point became clear with the shouts from behind them, and the group turned around continued forth. Finding the door ahead of their path unlocked, the rushed through only to find horribly mutated Templars waiting to attack. Samson and his group found an underground passage, leaping through while the armored men blocked the way.

Erafen noticed more of the elven fighters stepping out, arrows at the ready, but they seemed only to observe the fighting and vanished into the stone arches again. The Inquisition mages finally reached the hole, but none seemed willing to go in after.

"We should continue as before, take the Petitioner's Path," Morrigan advised.

"I normally disagree with the witch," Solas said, "but in this, I give. This is ancient land, holy. We should pay it respect."

"It seems it may be a more direct path," Erafen added. "I would think it'd go directly to this Well of Sorrows."

"Of course, our dear Lady Morrigan here doesn't say what she might seek to gain on that path," Dorian added flippantly.

"A moment," Morrigan said, leading the Inquisitor off.

"Lovely, they go debate while we're left here looking pretty," Dorian lamented. "Well, 'Fen and I look pretty. Solas could use a new wardrobe."

"They waste time," Solas commented, irritated. "And I do not trust her."

" _Halam'shivannas_ ," Erafen said aloud, remembering.

"Well done," the other elf commended her. "And I would not doubt that Morrigan read that, too, and thinks us illiterate."

"What does that mean?" Dorian asked.

"The sweet sacrifice of duty," Solas translated. "Meaning that for the power within, there will be a sacrifice, a freedom or something personal given up, and willingly." He caught Erafen's eye, the pair locked in a gaze for a second, and he turned away.

"Come, we take the path," Miryam called out, and waved the others towards the gate.

Ahead were more of the same puzzles, tiles lighting with magic as Miryam ran the circuit of them. In side chambers and pathways, mosaics in the images of the elven gods greeted the collection of mages.

"This one is curious," Miryam said.

"Falon'Din," Erafen said. "His name is called on the deathbed or before heading into quests one doesn't expect to return from. He guides the dead."

"Comfort for the dying?" Miryam asked of her elven friend, but Morrigan replied instead.

"Perhaps that's why the Dalish sometimes refer to Falon'Din as 'the merciful one'," she said.

"I do not believe they sing songs about Falon'Din's vanity," Solas scoffed. "It is said his appetite for adulation was so great, he began wars to amass more worshipers. The blood of those who wouldn't bow low filled lakes as wide as oceans. Mythal rallied the gods, once the shadow of Falon'Din's hunger stretched across her own people. He surrendered only when bloodied in his own temple."

"Did the ancient elves believe all their gods so terrifying?" Miryam wondered.

"Yes," Solas answered, voice sorrowful. "I believe they did."

With each mosaic, Solas had more to say, deftly illustrating Morrigan's ignorance of more than the myths gleaned from the Dalish. Andruil's nature in requiring sacrifice, for one, was something which made Erafen feel ill the times her fellow Dalish invoked her name chasing _shemlen_ away.

They finally entered a chamber, and from flashes of dust and shadow, the earlier archers appeared. Ahead of the mages stood one elf, hooded and armored, and he crossed his arms, expression not particularly welcoming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am still four chapters ahead in writing, having been on a roll. Please keep the comments and speculation coming. I love chatting with you guys.
> 
> Also, yes, Dorian quoted The Princess Bride. That makes two times for this fic.


	30. Abelas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erafen's world is turned inside out, and sorrow abounds.

" _Venavis_." the elf ahead of the mages spoke. "You... are unlike the other invaders." He looked over them all, fixing for a moment on Solas. "You stumble down our paths at the side of one of our own. You bear the mark of magic which is... familiar."

Miryam looked at her left hand, the Anchor flaring to life. Erafen, however, glanced over at Solas, curious, but he did not look back, eyes fixed on the elf on the platform.

"How has this come to pass? What is your connection to those who first disturbed our slumber?" the elf demanded.

"They are our enemies," Miryam replied. "But who are you?"

"I am called Abelas," the elf said. "We are Sentinels, tasked with standing against those who trespass on sacred ground. We wake only to fight, to preserve this place. Our numbers diminish with each invasion." He began pacing. "I know what you seek. Like all who have come before, you wish to drink from the _Vir'Abelasan_."

"He speaks of the Well!" Morrigan whispered.

"It is not for you. It is not for _any_ of you," Abelas informed them.

"So you are from before Tevinter destroyed Arlathan?" Miryam asked.

"The _shemlen_ did not destroy Arlathan." Abelas paused his pacing, and Erafen caught her breath. "We Elvhen warred upon ourselves. By the time the doors to this sanctuary closed, our time was over."

"Do not expect me to be able to sway him," Solas told Miryam when she looked over her shoulder at him. "Centuries of service will not end by virtue of shared blood."

"We awoke each time to find the world more foreign than the last. All that remains is our duty," Abelas concluded.

"We don't seek to steal from this temple," Erafen told the elf, conviction in her voice. "We don't want to fight you, only to stop Corypheus and those who serve him."

"I believe you," Abelas said. He stopped, looking her over with curiosity as if he saw something odd about her. Erafen almost missed his slight shrug. "Trespassers, yes, but you have shown respect for Mythal and walked the path. We will aid you in destroying your enemies, but you must depart when this is over, never to return.

"We accept," Miryam said immediately.

"You will be guided to those you seek," Abelas said. "And the _Vir'Abelasan_ will not be defiled, even if I must destroy it."

"NO!" Morrigan cried, and as the elf turned to leave, she transformed into a crow, flying off after him.

"Stupid foolish woman!" Dorian fussed. "She will bring ruin if she tries to stop the elf."

"She seeks to protect the Well of Sorrows," Solas said. "Come, we must continue without her."

Their guide was an armored woman, walking with a long staff. “ _Mythal enaste_."

They were guided through a series of tunnels and rooms, hidden doors opening only at their guide's touch. Erafen took in everything she saw, mosaics dedicated to the gods she'd known as a child. Seeing them honored so by the ancient elves and hearing how Solas spoke of them sent her mind into conflict, only snapping out at the sounds of the Elvhen fighting the Red Templars through an open grate. She realized this must be how Sera felt, why the younger elf chose to close her ears rather than make sense of it.

Eventually, they made their way back down into a long courtyard, formerly still waters in pools now streaming red with the shed blood of the warriors defending it. Ahead was Samson, boasting of the power of his men. One of them pointed to the approaching group.

"Well, Inquisitor. You and those elf-things don't know when to quit," Samson said, turning around.

"I spoke with your Tranquil, Maddox. He's dead," Miryam said, in part hoping to appeal to the man's sense of humanity.

The look of righteous anger faded from the Red Templar's face. "Then he died as us," he said sorrowfully. "As one of the faithful." He continued, the emotion leaving. "Corypheus chose me twice, first as his general, and now as his vessel." He turned around to face the group again, red dust and bolts of energy shifting around him.

"This is the strength the Chantry tried to bind! It is a new world now, with a new god. So, Inquisitor. How will this go?" Samson pointed at her in challenge.

"Power's all well and good until it's taken away," Miryam said with a smirk, and held out the glyph tile Dagna and Erafen worked so hard to create.

The mist around Samson vanished as soon as the glyph activated; the sounds of multiple fractures in the lyrium binding it echoed all around. The Red Templar fell to his knees, crying out in denial, and with a command, his men attacked.

The fight, however, was brief. The Red Templars we no match for four skilled mages, especially when each of them tended to play dirty with magical tricks. Stepping through the Fade, calling up its energy, electrocuting the men standing in water, and Erafen's favorite, a Wall of Fire, soon had them dead. Only Samson was left alive, barely.

"No," Samson grunted. "You can't take the Well from Corypheus. You..." He collapsed, unconscious.

"We don't have time to stand guard over him," Dorian said. "Cullen's men can gather him, get him to Skyhold for judgment."

Miryam nodded, and turned, seeing Abelas shooting past her, chased by a crow. The elf ascended stones that formed under his feet, up to a higher platform. The Inquisitor was already in motion, the other mages close behind. Morrigan overtook him, however, standing between the elf and the Well, Miryam flanking him.

"He seeks to destroy the Well!" Morrigan said, eyes narrowed in determination.

"So the sanctum is despoiled at last," Abelas said, voice heavy with resignation.

"You would have destroyed it yourself, given the chance," Morrigan told him.

"To keep it from the undeserving," the ancient elf said, challenge in his tone.

"Fool! You would let your people's legacy rot in the shadows!" the witch retorted.

Erafen stood back, watching the conversation unfold, the three debating over something that only rightfully belonged in the hands of one of them. The Well could stop Corypheus; the Magister clearly wanted it for a reason. Why allow Abelas to destroy such a power source?

"Do you even now what you ask?" Abelas asked the women. "As each servant of Mythal reached the end of their years, they would pass their knowledge on through the Well. All that we were and knew would be lost."

"And you would rather destroy that?" Miryam asked, incredulous.

Solas spoke up. " _An’en’el, arani. Shivan’en’el. Navhen tath’shia_."

Abelas looked the other elf over, eyes narrowed. " _Elvhen aron ane_?" he asked.

Solas nodded, a look of hope in his eyes. " _Aron ame_." As Abelas turned to consider, Solas met Erafen's gaze firmly this time, answering the question in her eyes with a nod. He saw her eyes go wide, but looked away, attention on the Sentinel.

Abelas turned to Miryam. "You have shown respect to Mythal, and there is a righteousness in you I cannot deny. Drink, but be warned: no boon of Mythal was never without cost. You will forever be bound to her will."

"Bound to a goddess who no longer exists, if ever she did?" Morrigan scoffed.

"Bound," Abelas repeated. "As we are bound."

"Could Mythal yet exist?" Erafen asked, finding her voice as she looked to the others.

"You know the stories, Dalish, that she was locked away by Fen'Harel according to elven legend," Morrigan said, tone clipped.

"'Elven' legend is wrong. The Dread Wolf had nothing to do with her murder." Abelas frowned sharply.

"Murder? I said nothing of..." The witch faltered, confused by this new bit of knowledge.

Abelas let out a long breath. "She was slain, if a god truly can be. Betrayed by those who destroyed this temple. Even so, the Well remains, as do we. Take that as you will. I will leave. Once you drink, there is nothing here to hold us."

" _Malas amelin ne halam,_ Abelas," Solas told him. Abelas looked as if he considered those words, nodding once, and he turned to leave. "As you may have surmised, his name means 'sorrow'. I told him I hope he finds a new name," Solas explained to the others not fluent in the language.

Once the elder elf departed, Miryam and Morrigan fell into a debate, the later practically begging to drink from the Well, that her knowledge makes her most able to use it and understand what it tells her. Miryam clearly did not trust the other woman, looking to those behind her.

"I only agree that it should be used," Solas said. "Do not ask me to drink from it."

"Erafen," Miryam said. "Your dedication to learning the truth of your ancestors is well known. Of any of us, I would give this opportunity to you. I trust you far more than Morrigan with the knowledge.

" _Vhen'an, din_." Solas spoke suddenly, desperately, reaching to grip Erafen's hand tightly in his own. " _Tel'garas Vir'abelasan_."

Erafen considered her lover's entreaty, arguing internally against the loss of such history. Why would he tell her not to go to the Well unless he knew something? He confirmed one suspicion, that he was Elvhen. He had to know more about this. Was it love that made him beg her not to drink? She tore her gaze from the waters only feet away, turning to look up at Solas. The worry in his eyes struck her to her core.

He was leaving the decision to her, but he was asking she listen to him. How many times had he said he valued her freedom?

_You will not be bound._

" _Ma nuvenin_ ," she decided. _Respect and trust_ , she mentally repeated to herself. She looked away, back to Miryam. "I am sorry, _falon_. I must decline. I would no longer be the person you trust were I to be bound to Mythal's will."

Miryam nodded, surprised but not angry or disappointed. "I understand. I, too, would not know the ways it would change me, and so very many rely on me being clear-headed, on being me, but Morrigan, you are prepared for such an eventuality. Very well. Drink."

The witch smiled, honestly grateful, and she turned to walk into the well. “It is so… _hungry_.” Once she reached the center, she cupped her hands and brought the water to her mouth, taking a drink. It seemed to evaporate into black mist, surrounding the human and enveloping her. She was left babbling in the elven tongue, dazed and very confused. When she regained her bearings, however, Dorian called out.

"It is Corypheus! He has found us!" he cried.

"To the _eluvian_!" Morrigan said, and then she turned to head to the massive mirror behind the now dry Well, activating it. As the group took off, a form took shape from the remnants of the well, a woman visible as it coalesced. She stood guard between the escaping mages, attacking the monstrous Magister as he approached. Moments later, however, they escaped, tumbling into a hallway at what they recognized as Skyhold.

"No, we can't be back!" Miryam said once she had her bearings. "Cullen... he will be out there, still fighting! He must be told that we escaped!"

Erafen did not wait, but she took off at a run, finding her way to the courtyard and around into the castle. "I need crows!" she called out, not stopping until she was in Leliana's roost. Breathlessly, she told one of the spymaster's people to write messages and send out the birds, issuing warnings to the Inquisition's forces. Once three crows were out, she came down to ask Grand Enchanter Fiona to send a message through arcane means to Vivienne. Her mind still racing, she made her way back among the murals Solas painted, immediately falling into his arms as she bumped into him at the foot of the stairs.

"My heart," he told her, taking Erafen to the couch tucked away by the wall. "You have done all that you can. Morrigan has returned to the _eluvian_ to see if Mythal's terminus is destroyed, and if so, to travel through one closer to our forces herself. Her ability to shapeshift will grant her speed we do not possess."

Erafen slumped against his shoulder, letting him wrap a strong arm around her. "Corypheus does not have the Well."

"No, he does not. That belongs to Morrigan now," Solas replied. "And if she is true to her word, she will in turn serve the Inquisition."

"I could have taken it," she whispered. "But you asked me not to. You let me decide."

Solas kissed the top of her head. "I would not see you bound, enslaved to another. You were correct; you would not be yourself."

"You are Elvhen," she said plainly.

A long breath escaped his lips. "I am."

"What you saw in the Fade...."

"I saw things in the Fade, that is the truth. I slept for so long. Before that, I lived, I saw. I remember."

Erafen shuddered hard, but she did not let go. "Solas is the name you chose for yourself." Her voice keened, but she held in her tears. "Cole said there was nothing left."

"At the time, it was true. Now? No, I have more than I ever thought I might,” he said against her hair.

Erafen finally let herself succumb to the pressure, the stress building up in her since her capture in Haven. So much battle, so much loss, and all of it paled compared to what her lover lived through and experienced. Her life was nothing compared to his, and yet he openly cared for her.

" _Garas, numin_ ," he murmured, reaching to pull the tangle of braids that bound Erafen's hair loose. She sobbed against his shirt, heedless of anything else, and Solas pulled her into his lap, letting her vent her grief, confusion, stress, and in some part, relief. After a few moments of muffled ugly crying, she calmed, eyes closing as she finally felt like she found release.

"I got your shirt wet," she mumbled, looking up at him apologetically.

Solas couldn't help the laugh low in his throat. " _Vhen'an_ , I am not concerned. You may flood my entire wardrobe in tears if it will relieve your pain."

Erafen let out a shaky laugh. "It may not come to that," she told him, wiping her eyes. "You are... how old are you?"

"Old enough to remember Arlathan, if that's what you're asking," Solas told her. In his eyes, there was an odd combination of relief and another worry. There may still be things he was uncomfortable speaking of, she realized.

"I am so... _little_. My time is so short compared to yours," Erafen managed. "Why? Why me?"

"Simple. Do you not remember? You asked me what the truth I could tell you was, and I told you," Solas explained. "Do you not believe me?"

"I do believe you," Erafen answered, voice soft and low. "I suppose things like 'why' and 'reason' do not apply to emotion."

"Certainly not logic," Solas conceded. He leaned his forehead against hers. "You see why I did not say anything to the others. I also did not want you to think yourself... lesser. You are beloved and precious to me."

"And I will die before you," she whispered.

"If Corypheus succeeds, none of that matters," Solas told her. "And if he does not, then it _still_ does not matter."

Erafen let out a long sigh, letting it sink in, and she finally pulled away slowly, coming to stand on her feet. "You can rely on me to keep your secret. And... this does not change how I feel. I am still yours, and I am not afraid. I must... I need to check on Miry. Tonight... I just need to think about things, get my head clear.” With that, she turned to head out, leaving Solas to watch her leave, affection on his face turning to deep concern when she couldn't see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this probably wasn't what anyone expected. To be honest, it wasn't what I expected, but I think 'Fen's starting to see the big picture, and Miry takes a cue from her First about weird elven stuff.
> 
> Translation time! Again thanks to http://fenxshiral.tumblr.com/ for the help.
> 
> An’en’el, arani. Shivan’en’el. Navhen tath’shia. - More places, friend. More duties. Your people still wander.  
> Elvhen aron ane? - Elvhen such as you are?  
> Aron ame. - Such as I am.
> 
> Malas amelin ne halam, Abelas. - This hope of mine that your name will be new, Abelas.  
> (I know this is hotly debated; see here for more: http://fenxshiral.tumblr.com/post/106031558433/so-in-my-time-figuring-out-elvhen-im )
> 
> Vhen'an, din. - My heart, don't.  
> Tel'garas Vir'abelasan. - Don't approach the Well of Sorrows.
> 
> Ma nuvenin. - As you wish.
> 
> Garas numin. - Come, tears. (aka "Cry it out!")


	31. Ha'hren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are not the same after the Arbor Wilds, and Blackwall has vanished.

Morrigan did make it to the Inquisition forces ahead of Erafen's messenger crows, and thankfully, Corypheus chose not to attack in retribution, instead moving off to places unknown. Cullen left a small force to loot what was usable among the Red Templar camp and destroy the rest. When he returned to Skyhold, a very relieved Inquisitor stood ready to meet him, running into his arms without a care of who was watching.

As Erafen promised, she kept the secret of her lover's origins to herself, even stopping herself from asking him questions, though she still absorbed every morsel of history he spoke of with a new appreciation. The night after returning from the Arbor Wilds, she busied herself, taking some time on her own to sort our her feelings and think of how this knowledge would or should affect their relationship, and when she returned to meet with Solas before bed, she found that nothing was really different. He still smiled at her the same small secret smile. His touch was still gentle yet as firm as she liked. His kisses were tender and passionate, and when they were alone, hungry as if he had been starving for a century.

Erafen reckoned maybe had been, alone for all of that time, waking to find the new world foreign and his old world forgotten. No wonder the Dalish seemed brutish to him, the City elves hopeless. So much made sense now, and over it all, he was still her Solas. "Beloved and precious," he had called her, and over those few following nights, he did not let her forget that with the attention he showed her.

"Assuming we have the time, we should travel," Solas told her the night Cullen returned, stroking Erafen's hair gently. "There is a cave in Crestwood, one of those rare places called ' _setheneran_ ,' a place where the veil is thin. It ancient and.. private."

"It sounds lovely," Erafen said. "I didn't get to travel with Miryam when she took a group there last." When she turned her face to look at him, he was staring straight ahead at the ceiling, looking as though he was making a decision. She reminded herself that there were still things he would keep private, and she respected those boundaries, but it didn't prevent concern.

Solas realized he was being watched and looked down, smiling at Erafen tenderly. He said nothing, but kissed her forehead, moving his thumbs down to trace the lines of the vallaslin at her cheeks. Erafen closed her eyes, letting his be the last thing she saw before appearing in the Fade.

This night, the Wolf was there, but he held back, watching her with what Erafen took to be a thoughtful expression.

" _You have learned many things since you awoke in the Fade_ ," he told her. " _You have learned what I can teach you to the extent of your power_."

" _Ha'hren_?" Erafen asked, approaching. She dropped to her knees before the Wolf. " _I know you are not the traitor my people think you to be. I know you to be a rebel, though I can only speculate on the cause. I saw the statue at Mythal's temple. Where did it go wrong?_ "

He shook his head, lowering it. " _That, I have no answer for. Instead, I will leave you with what I can give._ " As he had times before, he breathed into her face, and Erafen drank in the breath, now better able to accept it without being overwhelmed. She leaned her head back, letting it course through her, and gently, as one would a pup, the Wolf took her neck in his maw, teeth only lightly puncturing the skin, scraping a little when he finally let go.

" _Such trust_ ," he said, his voice marveling and mournful.

"I know there is a price, ha'hren. There are always consequences. I accepted it when you first offered. I am not defenseless in the Fade; my Keeper taught me well,” Erafen told him, gaze settling on one pair of his eyes. "Even if you do not require my servitude, there is still a cost."

" _Emma..._ " He paused, and without warning, bounded off into the green mists, leaving Erafen to look after him in confusion. Was her admission the wrong thing to say?

When she awoke the next morning, Solas was still asleep. Erafen was still confused, but she rose a bit to press a kiss to his chin. " _Emma vhen'an_ ," he murmured, a sleepy hand stroking her arm. It gave her pause, considering the last word her elgar'ha'hren said before his departure, but she tucked that away, smiling warmly when Solas fully awoke.

Once up and around, Erafen was of course called away to work, meeting with the War Council early on to go over the next few courses of action. Morrigan was conspicuously absent, presumably to recover from her experiences with the _Vir'abelasan_. They were in the middle of reassigning a new batch of troops to the Hissing Wastes when the witch herself stumbled in.

"We must return to the Arbor Wilds," she announced.

Miryam was mid-sip of a goblet of water, and she finished swallowing and put it down. "Did we miss something?"

"You need a way to defeat the Archdemon," Morrigan said. "There is a shrine there. We will call to Mythal and ask her aid."

"The two of you, of course," Erafen said, arms folding. " _Mythal enaste_ , indeed."

"A small group of us will go, stand as a guard. 'Fen, I know you asked for time with Solas to go over what was learned at Mythal's temple. Would you hold off on your trip until our return?" Miryam asked.

"Of course, _falon_ ," Erafen said. "I believe I have letters to write to Keeper Deshanna to distribute among the Dalish anyway, and there are dignitaries to see off."

"Is this wise?" Cullen asked, voice gentle as it only ever was with Miryam.

"Is any of this wise? We are combatting a creature who would be a god," Leliana pointed out.

“Fair enough," Cullen replied with a deep sigh.

"If our Inquisitor will be leaving soon, then we need to make arrangements for travel," Josephine said.

"Leave it to me," Erafen told the Antivan. "My contribution is small today regardless. Everything will be ready for a morning departure." With that, she excused herself and went to the stables to talk with Dennet.

She popped off, stopping long enough to watch Solas paint for a few moments, absorbed in his mural, and then she went out into the large courtyard heading to the stables. A few words with the Horsemaster had things ready for the next day, and she went in to ask Blackwall if he wished to accompany Miryam. What Erafen found instead was a letter pinned to a gryphon the Warden carved.

"First Lavellan," a scout called from the doorway. "Oh, he's left! Look, this may be of interest to you." He approached, handing over a report.

Erafen looked it over, frowning the deeper she read into it. Apparently this all coincided with the execution of a man named Mornay in Val Royeaux, one associated with the murder of a noble family named Callier.

"Thank you," she told the scout sincerely. "I'll bring this to the Inquisitor at once." She walked off purposefully, returning to the War Room.

"I'm afraid to ask," Miryam said in greeting, noting the look of dread on her First's face.

Erafen wasted no time explaining the situation, that Blackwall was gone, and that there was intelligence pointing to him being present at an execution a few days from then. "The timing is far from good," she told Miryam.

"No, it's not at all good. I don't know that I can go to Val Royeaux when we should be focusing on the war with Corypheus," Miryam said, swearing under her breath. "But Blackwall has been trusted and true, and I would not abandon him in his time of need."

"If our advisors here can do without me for just a few days, I can go to Val Royeaux in your stead," Erafen suggested. "My word should have some sway now, if needed, as your proxy."

Miryam seemed to consider it, looking to her other advisors.

"We will be fine," Leliana said. "But I suggest taking those with more polished reputations if this is to be at an event of public justice."

Erafen nodded. "Vivienne, Varric, and Cassandra."

"And for my journey, I want Iron Bull, Dorian, and Solas to accompany us," Miryam said. "Very well, 'Fen. I trust you with this."

"I'll go back and talk to Dennet, then," Erafen said. "And spread the word to the affected parties." With that, she sighed, turned on her heel, and went right back out to the stables again. So much for her afternoon of rest with her love!

After arrangements were made for travel, Erafen went to write the letter to her Keeper, unsure of what exactly to tell Deshanna. Finally, she decided to just tell her the truth that she could and let her Keeper decide what to do with the information. The People deserved to know their history, even if it conflicted with what they'd always been taught.

_"Ha'hren,_

_I have been to extraordinary places while with the Inquisition. I told you of seeing the Temple of Dirthamen, sent you relics gained there. This I send you with quite a bit more. We have been to an even more impossible place, Mythal's Temple! It was astounding, teeming with ancient magic and beauty. We walked the Petitioner's Path that our ancestors did in days long ago, and we have learned so much._

_What I have to tell you, ha'hren, is not easy. It contrasts with much of what our legends tell us, yet are we not charged with preserving our history and sharing these things among our People?_

_In Mythal's Temple, we found a statue of Fen'Harel. It was not what we place at our camps, but was one with the Wolf in repose, offerings of flowers around him and a plaque in his honor. He was loved by those who served Mythal! I can think of no other explanation. There were Sentinels, too, elves serving since the early days of our people, all bearing Mythal's vallaslin. One I took as their leader called himself Abelas. When we spoke of the gods' banishment before him, he specifically said, 'The Dread Wolf had nothing to do with her murder', speaking of Mythal, and saying that someone killed her, in whatever way one kills a goddess. I believe something of her still lives; clearly the witch who claimed the waters of the well received something._

_There has been much I have learned in my time with the Inquisition to satisfy my curiosity, but nothing has shaken me as much as what I learned there. I have committed inscriptions to memory; they are included in my letter, along with descriptions of the murals I saw with them. Our people must know; our fear may have been misplaced._

_I miss you and my sister,_   
_Erafen"_

She sealed the collection of papers tightly, covering them in another waxed layer to protect the precious documents from the elements, and sent the package off with her crow. She could allow the Dalish to live in blissful ignorance, holding onto the ways that defined their nature, but she remembered her discussion with Cassandra a few weeks earlier: such stagnation and repetition was madness. Perhaps the spirit in the Fade truly was Fen'Harel, and she was being tasked with clearing his reputation. Perhaps he was tricking her in an attempt to finally destroy the People, but she didn't believe that. The story Solas told them in Mythal's temple of Falon'din and his wars waged to satisfy his vanity lingered in the back of her mind, and if the gods were truly so terrible, she'd want them sealed away, too.

Heart heavy, she still went around to gather her people for Val Royeaux, briefing her party over an early dinner.

"If he wishes to go, why should we stop him?" Vivienne wondered. "Clearly the Inquisition is not his priority, my dear."

"But he's still one of us and shed blood for our cause," Cassandra rebutted. "If the Inquisitor believes he is worth our help, I stand with her."

"Let's not forget: he's a Grey Warden, and they've all been shown vulnerable to Corypheus," Varric pointed out. "That enough should make us at least curious as to what he's up to."

"I considered all of those things, and I agree. Even that if Blackwall is leaving the Inquisition merely for personal reasons, we should still make certain there is no danger to our operations and that he is also in no danger or under no compulsion," Erafen told them.

"Darling, I cannot find fault in your reasoning," Vivienne conceded. "I will send word to associates ahead of us, see if they spot a man matching Blackwall's description."

"Thank you," Erafen told the human mage, finally smiling a little. "Hopefully we can resolve this quickly."

"I'm surprised you didn't want Cole along, too," Varric said.

"After the adventure you lot had regarding that whole binding business, I think he has his hands full here," Erafen replied. "I'd rather not have him at a hanging with him being far more spirit than person now. His gentle and compassionate nature would make such an event torturous, I’m sure. Plus, I was considering Madame de Fer's preferences."

"And it is appreciated, darling," Vivienne said. "At least the demon cannot be turned against us now, thanks to the efforts of Varric and your apostate lover.”

"Let us not debate this again," Cassandra offered, "but agree to disagree. We have preparations to make and should be seeing to them."

"Agreed," Erafen said. "I will see you all in the morning."

After the group disbanded, Erafen was left on the tavern's third floor, picking at pieces of bread on her plate. She was alone for what felt like the first time, and the relative silence was welcome. There were so many irons in the fire, so many things still in the air, and here she was having to pretend as if she had answers for people. Was this what Miryam felt like? Her friend had to have been experiencing this to far greater an extent, 'Fen realized.

She stood up, taking her plate to return to the tavern's kitchen below. What time did she have to mope? There was a Warden to find, and so determined, she went to gather supplies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are progressing! I am working on chapter 35 at present, getting ready to write Crestwood. Oh, my dears.


	32. Harellan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What defines a traitor?

The group made a respectable spectacle when they arrived in Val Royeaux. By now, all knew who was who in the Inquisition's top ranks and respectfully stood aside. Erafen noted this was quite different from Miryam's accounts of when the Inquisition arrived to seek a truce with the Chantry.

The crowd gathered today, however, was quite a bit different, worked up into an entirely violent sort of fury. They were there to see a man die for crimes against a beloved noble and his family. A group of men under the command of one Thom Ranier, a former captain in Empress Celene's army, attacked the nobleman's carriage, killing all there, including Callier's four young children. Erafen felt her stomach knot at that, thinking the crowd justified in their anger and demand for justice. With those around so willing to talk, they had a rather interesting picture of the events.

"Why would Blackwall be concerned about this?" Varric asked. "Unless he knows something."

"We've no way of knowing right now," Vivenne said, looking over the crowd. "Let us forward," she commanded people in front of her, and noble or not, they moved out of the way for Madame de Fer.

The man on the scaffold was miserable, cheeks sunken and eyes clearly lined with bruises from lack of sleep. Erafen could have felt sorry for the sight, but he murdered children, which crossed a definite line for him. The hangman approached, holding the end of the rope, and a chevalier held out paper, reading out the list of crimes the condemned stood accused for.

"You are sentenced to be hanged from the neck until you are dead," the chevalier announced. "Do you have anything to say in your defense?"

The man made no response, merely knelt where he was sorrowfully.

"Very well," the announcer said. "Proceed."

"STOP!" a voice called out firmly.

"Oh shit," Varric said.

Blackwall appeared on the platform, looking out over the crowd. "This man stands innocent of the crimes he is accused of. He followed orders, like any good soldier. He should not die for that mistake."

"Then find me the man who gave the order!" the chevalier demanded.

"Blackwall!" Erafen called out.

"No, I was never Blackwall. That man is dead," the man on the podium told her across the crowd. "He has been for years. I assumed his name to hide from what I'd done, like the coward I really am."

The condemned man looked up, recognition dawning in his eyes. "You, after all this time!"

"I'm done hiding." The 'Warden' looked out over the crowd. "I gave the order. My name is Thom Ranier." He met Erafen's eyes, and then turned, escorted out by soldiers to Val Royeaux's prison.

Erafen watched in shocked silence as the other man was released.

"Lily, you ok?" Varric asked the elf.

" _Harellan_ ," Erafen managed. "This man is a traitor."

"To his Empress, to the people he was to serve, and to us," Vivienne agreed.

"Why would he make this public now? He saved this man's life by offering up his own. That is not the action of a man who would turn on his people," Cassandra said. "There is more to learn here."

"Guilt can gnaw at one, my dear. Perhaps it has finally caught up, being surrounded by people with clearly more honor than he has," Vivienne offered.

"Miryam wanted us here to see to Blackwall, or Ranier, whoever he is," Erafen said, her voice low and clearly trying not to shake. "He has served with us as one of our own. She would want to know if he is a traitor to us, or merely a traitor to his people." The moment 'harellan' escaped her lips, she regretted it, thinking to herself how people can be misjudged, how motivation can go for centuries misunderstood.

"Darling, if this is your choice, we stand with you," Vivienne said, though she seemed unconvinced.

"Varric, please send a crow to Leliana, let her know what's going on before her spies report," Erafen requested.

"Sure thing, Lily," the dwarf replied, heading off to do that.

"Cassandra, claim Mornay for the Inquisition, please," the First ordered. "See that he has food and drink."

"At once," the Seeker said, going to tend to the task.

"While we are here, I should tend to some of Skyhold's standing orders," Vivienne suggested, and Erafen nodded, grateful the perceptive woman knew the elf wished to talk to Ranier alone. Once the other woman departed, Erafen immediately headed to the town's jail.

It took convincing to let her in, eventually resulting in Erafen producing her crest of the Inquisition and credentials written for her in Miryam's hand. She stood in front of Ranier's cell, grateful she at least had a few more inches of height, even if she stood a solid foot shorter than the man.

In a broken voice, Ranier confessed his crimes, talking about how he'd only been interested in the coin, didn't know that Callier's family traveled with him, how he ran, and eventually his recruitment by the real Warden Blackwall. The man died fighting darkspawn, Ranier told her, and rather than let the world lose a good man and face rejection by the other Grey Wardens, he decided to _become_ that man, spending his days working to atone for what he did and hiding from who he really was.

As Erafen listened, her thoughts more than once went to Solas, thinking of the things he might have been running from. If she'd been willing to forgive her lover of things in his past, she could do no less for the broken man before her.

"There is little I can do from here," the elf said. "And Miryam is on an important quest. You are still the Inquisition's responsibility and an important part of our group. We may yet have a use for you."

"I deserve to die!" the man shouted.

"Thom Ranier may have deserved to die, but I don't see a man capable of what he did in front of me today," Erafen countered, raising her voice. She took a breath to calm herself. "You have no say in this, regardless. Your fate is in the hands of the Inquisitor." She knew that wasn't entirely true; Miryam would ask her advice.

"I'm sorry," the 'Warden' said.

"As am I," Erafen told him, and she turned to leave, heart heavy and mind racing. They would be staying in Val Royeaux for the night; hopefully she’d be able to resolve her conflicted feelings by the morning.

Vivienne arranged for luxurious apartments in the city, a suite of rooms with a central living space. It was a bit much for Erafen’s simpler tastes, but it was comfortable and let in a lot of natural light. The First Enchanter left on business, tending to her dear late Bastien’s relatives in the city, and Varric went out, as he said, to find good ale and better tales. This left Erafen alone with Cassandra, which was just the distraction the First wished for.

“You said not long ago that you wanted us to talk privately over the nomination,” ‘Fen told Cassandra, pouring them each a glass of deep red wine.

“Yes, thank you,” the Seeker replied, taking the crystal glass. “I do know Miryam listens to you and your opinions, so I wanted to see what it is you most look for in Divine. Yes, I know you are not Andrastian, but the decision no less affects elves.”

“It affects all of the Faith, not just humans, but elves and dwarves alike, even Qunari who follow the Chant,” Erafen said. “That being said, I think recognizing those groups is the first change. If all are truly the Maker’s creations, then all should have equal access to his service.”

“Something Leliana has said more and more,” Cassandra admitted. “Something I did not think was a thing to be an immediate change.”

“And the Circles should be something one joins of their free will, or is elected to as an honor, not as punishment for an accident of birth,” Erafen continued. “I do, however, believe Templars may still be necessary, as are Seekers if they are like you.”

Cassandra looked surprised and flattered, but she hid it behind her sip of wine. “I suppose you think mages should be tried by their peers, too.”

“Mostly, but also in accordance with the law of the land,” the elf replied, drinking a bit more. “Before Haven, none of that would have really mattered to me, wouldn’t have occurred. Now? We Dalish are a part of this world, and what goes on in it affects us. We can’t hide in caves with the stirring of the world.”

“If I were to be Divine, I would entreat people to be kinder to your elven kin, of course. I would reform Circles, revamp the Templar order, and rededicate the Seekers to their cause,” Cassandra said. “I have had to think of these things.”

“You would take the middle path, then, between what Vivienne thinks and what Leliana has spoken of,” Erafen realized. “A compromise.”

“The Chantry needs leadership that is not afraid of change, but must honor its past, too,” Cassandra confirmed.

“If Leliana is elected, however, I would hope she has you as her Right Hand,” Erafen said. “And likewise, that you keep Leliana. You both work so well together. Only good can come from your continued collaboration. Don’t let this become a competition.”

“What of Vivienne?” Cassandra wondered. “I would not write her off.”

“I would tell Vivienne to retain both you and Leliana and to listen to you. Likewise, I would suggest to you both to keep her in service. She would likely accept from you, but not so much if Leliana intends to change things,” Erafen said after a moment of consideration.

“So no matter who is elected, we three should still work together, is what you are saying?” Cassandra asked.

“I suppose so.” Erafen shrugged. “I’ve learned that it helps having contrary positions around you, that if you listen to things that are against what you think or are foreign to you, and do so with open minds, you learn more and gain a perspective you might not have otherwise. Solas and I have butted heads over that a few times.”

“He does seem rather set in his opinions,” the Seeker agreed. “But perhaps you are a good influence on him.”

“Or he on me,” Erafen said. “But back to you, Seeker, I would support you if you were elected. I may agree more with Leliana, but you would not be lacking an ally if you landed on the Sunburst Throne.”

“I… will remember this,” Cassandra said, and she finished her wine rather quickly.

“So why don’t we dress like regular people for once and see if that restaurant near the main circle is any good. I thought I smelled something quite savory when we were by earlier,” Erafen said, finishing her wine as well.

“Erafen, we _are_ dressed as regular people… for us,” Cassandra said, showing a hint of humor.

“Psh, We’re some damned weird people then,” Erafen snorted, and she stood to go change.

 


	33. Sulevin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen's not a fan of Orlesian coffee, Erafen's independent streak comes out some more, and Morrigan voices her regrets.

When Erafen made it down to the prison the next morning, Cullen was there waiting for her, looking as if he’d ridden most of the night. He had some of the strong-smelling caffeinated beverage the Orlesians favored, drinking it with a look of distaste.

“A bit bitter?” Erafen wondered. “It’s fine with sugar and cream.”

“At this point, I’m glad for its bitterness,” Cullen told the elf. “It matches my mood. Damn him.” He raked his fingers through the short curls on his head, covering his face for a moment. “This does not make things easy on us.”

“No, it doesn’t. Miryam has enough on her plate without coming home to this, but she really is the only one who can decide what to do. We can request a stay of execution for only so long,” Erafen said. “It will require that we work quickly.”

“Miryam should be back in the Arbor Wilds by now,” Cullen said. “But we should still be back before her. We only have a few days to decide what to do, and it should be done at Skyhold, not here. I spoke with Ranier; what he did was dishonorable and disgusting, but this man… he has fought with honor for the Inquisition. He could have left at any time, but he did so to save a man’s life.”

“Maybe people change,” Erafen offered. “I agree, though. We return to Skyhold in the morning and get to work before the kind Orlesians here forget their patience.” She let out a sigh.

“You hoped you wouldn’t have to use this authority,” Cullen stated. “You know Miryam trusts your judgment. The rest of us do, too.”

“I remember at Adamant, how quickly you responded to my call, even when I really am just an advisor. It meant a lot to me, that confidence,” Erafen admitted in a low voice.

“I did not know what to think of you at first, but you clearly love Miryam and are a great friend and confidante; I trust you as she does,” the Commander said. “And now, I think I need real food before this brown substance burns a hole in my gut.”

The First shook her head, eyes rolling just a touch, and she led the way out so that the others could catch Cullen up with what they’d learned in Val Royeaux.

——

The group in Val Royeaux returned only a day ahead of Miryam's party from the Arbor Wilds. Erafen, however, already working with Leliana, had a plan, one that served the needs of the Inquisition in two ways. One of the stablehands under Dennet turned out to be an informant for a group of Venatori. Realizing he was bearded and looked very similar to Blackwall, Leliana thought he would be the perfect decoy.

"Do it," Erafen said finally. "We should waste no time. I pray Miryam will agree with us, that this was the best option. We save our coffers and favors, give the public what they want, and we retain Ranier's services."

"That was my logic," Leliana said. "I would think our Inquisitor understands this." She sat at her table, writing the missive to begin the exchange.

"Leliana, I talked to Cassandra about the Appointment," Erafen said.

"Yes, I had a feeling she would want your opinion. I understand you favor change, as do I. Miryam assisted me with an important task, one that... I found liberating. I find myself being gentler, but never to the Inquisition's detriment," Leliana said softly. "I would end the Circles, invite other races into the Chantry, to serve and learn." Her eyes turned to an ivory and gold box, touching the top of it gently. "We have choices. There is always a choice. The Chantry could do well to make sure all have the freedom to do so."

"Cassandra knows I favor you for this role, and Vivienne not at all, but I will tell you what I told her. I believe Cassandra should serve as your Right Hand, and Vivienne your Left. Whoever is chosen, I believe the three of you together will serve as balanced leadership," Erafen told the former bard.

"We work together? Would Vivienne agree?" Leliana looked thoughtful. "This requires consideration, but I do not believe your suggestion unwise."

"Cassandra agreed, for the most part," the elf said. "No decision has been made; I merely wanted to leave the thought with you."

"I will take it under advisement." Leliana gave Erafen a reassuring smile. "And now, we have a hanging to arrange and a false Warden to rescue."

"Of course. I'll get the cell ready and intercept Miry when she arrives," 'Fen offered, and with that, she stood and descended the stairs. She paused long enough to check with the Tranquil who replaced Minaeve, still uncomfortable around the woman, to make sure the information gathered on the enemies faced was up to date in the records.

When Miryam arrived that night, Erafen was there to greet her, pulling her friend aside to let her know what was going on with Ranier. Thankfully, the Inquisitor agreed with the plan, promising to judge the man fairly once he was in Skyhold's protection. He truly was too great an asset to let go, and now too honorable of a man to let fall prey to his past. The two went over options for the next few hours, discussing not only Ranier's fate but the upcoming decision about who would be Divine. Miryam's exhaustion, displayed with a loud throaty yawn, convinced Erafen that her friend needed rest, and that they could continue in the morning.

It was on her way downstairs that she ran into Morrigan, the woman stopping her with a hand on the elf’s shoulder.

“Lady Morrigan?” Erafen asked, an eyebrow raised.

“I now rather wish you had drank from the well, Lady Lavellan,” Morrigan said.

“Maybe you now know why I didn’t,” ‘Fen told her, but not without sympathy. “Sometimes the hunger is better than what fills it.” She gave the human witch a gentle smile, truly feeling that Morrigan may well learn a lesson from this. “ _Mythal enaste_ , Milady.”

  
Morrigan gave Erafen a questioning look, and then seemed as if she was listening to something far away. “ _Ma serannas_ ,” she replied, seeming to make up her mind, and then turned towards the courtyard path.

Moving on her way to greet her lover, she stopped to watch when she saw Solas hard at work on his most recent fresco. She had a greater appreciation of his technique now that she understood he truly learned when the art form was at its pinnacle.

His tunic was off, and Erafen was not in the least regretful to watch her lover's back as he reached above him to fill in what appeared to be a rippling blue surface passing behind what she took to be Mythal's eluvian. With the loose comfortable tunics and armor he chose, it was difficult for many to realize Solas was far stronger than his looks. Erafen knew him to have an athlete's build, limber and strong, and far better in control of his body than most practiced warriors. Many mornings she'd meditated with him, learning the stances and poses of what she understood now were part of her ancestors' magical practice.

Rather than disturb his work, she closed her eyes, letting herself feel the magic of his aura and reaching for him, just a light caress of her energy against his. His response was gentle, touching in return, yet he didn't stop until the last bit of colored plaster was applied. He finally covered his bowls with a damp cloth and climbed down.

"I feared I wouldn't have enough of the lapis dye to finish the Well," he said. "It is expensive, and Josephine did well to find it for me."

"Your work is gorgeous," Erafen told him sincerely. "I thought you'd be returning to it after the Wilds."

"The quiet work settled my thoughts, of which many were focused on you," Solas admitted. He walked to a waiting tub of water, dipping in a towel to wash plaster from his chest. When he caught Erafen watching him in rather blatant appreciation, he laughed. "They were very good thoughts, _vhen'an_ ," he assured her, and continued cleaning off.

"I'm sorry, I was having very impure thoughts just now. Impure, but really lovely," Erafen said teasingly. "Oh, you don't have to get dressed on my account," she added when Solas went for his tunic.

"I do for the sake of making it to your room," he pointed out. “How will I fight off the nobles in the hall? Surely at least one will have tastes in the 'elven apostate hobo' category.”

"Pah, logic," Erafen said with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “And you are _not_ a hobo.”

Once Solas was dressed, Erafen walked alongside him as they crossed the Grand Hall to the stairs leading up to the balcony. She told him of Ranier, of what he'd done, and told him of the plan she and Leliana hatched.

"He is a traitor," Solas said darkly. "Whatever he does with this mercy, I pray he appreciates it. Perhaps the man he is now may be worthy of it. Cole will probably find his way to Ranier's side."

"He's more spirit now," Erafen observed, letting them both into her room. "Being Elvhen, does it give you a deeper understanding of someone like him?"

"I knew what he was from the start, if that is what you ask," Solas replied, removing his belt and tunic. "Like any person, though, one must get to know him, to be friends. It is not so different from the creatures of the Waking World."

"Varric was disappointed, but I'm glad Cole is what he should be," Erafen said, undressing. She took a moment to clean the grime of the day off, and she sat on the end of the bed, unbraiding her hair so that it fell in copper waves down her back. "I adore Varric, but there is something to be said for changing someone, for making them into something they're not. Maybe he would argue that Cole chose to become human for a reason."

Solas was quiet, watching Erafen. When she turned to look at him, his expression was almost stricken.

"Solas?" she asked gently. “What is it?”

"Do you feel as if you are being changed into someone you are not?" he asked. "Surely everything you have experienced has had an effect on your person."

Erafen cocked her head to the side, confused but considering. "No. I have always been me, I think. Knowledge expands the mind, can make subtle differences. Surely my experiences in the Fade have changed my body, increased my connection to it, raised my awareness. My time among the Inquisition has expanded my world views, made the picture I see far larger beyond the mere concerns of the Dalish. My time with you has let me see all I could become and all we have lost. No, I am not changed; I am enhanced, evolving perhaps. For all of these things I've experienced, I have become all the better for it."

"Even despite your losses, the hard decisions to make, the things which shake the foundation your life began on?" he wondered, moving across the bed. He sat behind her, taking her hair in his hands, letting the soft waves fall through his fingers.

"Why do you seek my reassurance?" Erafen asked instead. "Am I so difficult to understand?"

"You play your role, yet you flow in and around it like water, strong like branches of ancient trees that eventually crumble structures lost to years," Solas told her.

"Pardon me if I sound like Cole, but I feel I am more 'me' than I ever was before Haven," she told him, turning around to look at his face. "My nature serves here; my questions have purpose. And importantly, I have those around me who accept me for that. I have the one thing I never knew I was missing. I have my heart." Erafen reached out to place her hand over her lover's chest.

"As I have mine." Solas held her hand against him, his expression still one of consideration.

"As you will _always_ have it," Erafen insisted.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, you guys are great. I've written a very emotional part just last night, and seeing all the kind comments and speculation are helping me push through for the next few chapters. I never considered myself to be much of a romantic, but I sure as heck am when these characters are concerned.


	34. Arla

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skyhold is a place of judgment.

Two days after the Inquisitor returned to Skyhold, Thom Ranier hung from his neck until he was dead in the market circle of Val Royeaux, his neck breaking as gravity pulled it against the rope. He hung limp, swinging under the momentum of his fall, and the crowd watching cheered. Justice was served.

In Skyhold, there was no celebration, but a broken humbled man kneeling before the grand throne of the Inquisition, head bowed.

“This makes the Inquisition criminal, corrupt,” he said in a low voice. “A man died to bring me here.”

“Thom Ranier,” Miryam said, Erafen standing next to her. “My First made her decision, and I support it. The traitor in our midst has been dealt with; now we have a different sort of betrayal to consider. Did you betray the Inquisition, or did you betray yourself?”

“My lady, the Inquisition will thrive without me,” Ranier said, head bowed. “I could not let an innocent man die for my crimes.”

“He lives and serves the Inquisition,” Erafen spoke aloud. “And now we have you, no longer willing to live a lie.”

“I would live and serve in whatever capacity you would have me,” Ranier said. "And if you wish me gone, then I accept."

“You have a choice then,” Miryam said, leaning forward on the grand throne, hands clasped before her. “I agree with my First; you shall not live a lie. The man you were has long been gone after you adopted the honorable mask of a Grey Warden. That being said, I leave you with choice to make when Corypheus is defeated.”

“A choice?” Ranier looked up, confused.

“You can continue to serve the Inquisition, and when this is done, you are a free man. You may continue to live under a new name with new credentials, or if you still choose to atone, we will send you to the Grey Wardens and let them decide your fate,” Miryam said.

“I… do not know that I deserve the choice, but I will serve the Inquisition with everything in me, and when this is done, then… then we will see.” Ranier stood. “Under what name shall I serve?”

Miryam looked to her First, nodding.

“Thom Blackwall,” Erafen said. “The man you were created the man you are; fitting you should carry both names. Do you accept?”

“I do, miladies,” Blackwall said, bowing his head in gratitude. A solider approached, removing the man’s shackles. He stood as if reborn, eyes bright and determined.

“You are no longer that coward, but a friend and trusted member of the Inquisition,” Miryam said. “Perhaps you were once a traitor, but that is past, that man dead and buried. The man who stands before us is our ally."

The fighter bowed deeply, and once straightened, he turned on his heel and headed out, a free and new man.

" _Falon_ ," Erafen told Miryam softly, excusing herself to stand aside and watch the remaining judgement. The one before her was one all were turning out to see, pouring in the moment Blackwall left the area. Josephine left her post, nodding to Cullen as he approached from the opposite side.

"Forgive me, Inquisitor. For personal interest, I have relieved Josephine, as you might expect," the Commander began. "Knight-Templar Samson, General to Corypheus, traitor to the Order: The blood on his hands cannot be measured." He paused, watching the accused be brought forward. "His head is too valuable to take. Kirkwall, Orlais; many would see him suffer, and I cannot say I'm not one of them."

Erafen stood back, watching things play out, and a familiar arm found its way behind her back. Solas joined her side, also watching.

"I will _not_ take this lightly," Miryam replied. "This affects as many as his crimes."

"The red lyrium will steal your vengeance. You know what it does," Samson said. "Corypheus only delayed my corruption."

"Are you still loyal to that _thing_?" Cullen demanded. "After all who died because of him?"

"Templars have always been used!" Samson said, voice echoing for all to hear. "How many of the Order were left to rot, as I was, after the Chantry burned away their minds? I followed so that Templars could die at their best! The lies are the same; the prophet just isn't as pretty." He nodded once mockingly to Miryam.

Cullen, Miryam, and Samson went round and round, speaking of the people who believed the general's lies, the reason he offered them, and his acceptance of failure. Erafen found a small bit of sympathy; she knew what the man had been through based on what Miryam and Cullen told her. He was a broken and used man, and so he broke and used others to give them the purpose he lacked. Her sympathy, however, did not mean she would forget what he did, excuse his actions. Samson bound those Red Templars to their fates knowingly.

"Corypheus would kill me on sight," he concluded. "I'll tell your people what they want. Everything I cared about is destroyed."

"A traitor to his order, now a traitor to what he betrayed it for," Erafen whispered to Solas. In response, his hand at her back pressed lightly, reasuring her. "Nothing good could come of him, not in his own eyes."

"Except now. This does not absolve him, no, but at least his desperation works to our advantage," Solas replied. "She should not give up this opportunity."

"Very well," Miryam said. "You will spend the rest of your days serving the Inquisition. Cullen will be your handler. Perhaps he can get something useful out of you."

"I doubt the Commander believes there is anything worthy left of me," Samson said.

"You're not wrong," Cullen agreed. "You once served something greater than yourself, however. Perhaps you can be made to remember that."

"For now, you stay in the dungeon, your room a cell," Miryam said. "I will also have Dagna take your armor, use it for study. Take him away."

Samson was led out, not protesting, and the court was concluded. It didn't escape Erafen's notice that Cullen went up into Miryam's quarters after the tired woman concluded court. The elf smiled to herself, pleased her friend had someone so dedicated who cared so much about her. A kiss touched the top of her head, and Solas moved his arm lower to catch her hand, urging her to follow.

"You have been rather quiet since the other night," Erafen told him.

"I have had much to consider," Solas answered.

"I won't pry, but if you need to talk, you know I will listen and keep it safe," she said, frustrated that she knew he wouldn't tell her. She couldn't be sure, but the expression that crossed her lover's face looked like guilt.

"I know. You never ask for more than I offer, and you give much without being asked," he replied, reaching to take her other hand.

"I know when and how to say no, Solas," 'Fen pointed out. "And you know I will argue if I need to. Smitten I may be, but I still have my wits."

He let out a low laugh, more of a hum in his throat. "This, I know. I don't think I can forget the lashing you gave me for scaring Sera with the suggestion I teach her how to walk the Fade."

"Well, you _were_ right. She did put those lizards in your bedroll. Wouldn't have been as funny if I'd climbed in first." Erafen grinned despite herself. She squeezed the hands that held hers, moving up to press a kiss to her love's mouth gently. For a moment, he kept her close, breathing the air in the shared space between them.

"Do you know how important breath is, _vhen'an_?" he asked her. "Even creatures in the Fade draw breath. A give, a take, a filling of the body with what gives life. Bereft of it, one cannot live."

"There are other things that will kill a person if it's taken away," Erafen pointed out.

"A person will suffocate before bleeding out," Solas countered. "A breath is life; a shared breath unites lives."

"I would share every one of mine with you," 'Fen told him.

Solas breathed out again, paused to kiss his lady once more, and moved his head back, looking at her sadly. "That is my fear, that your last would be because of me."

"Solas, _'ma lath_ ," Erafen said, having no way to reassure him. She was mortal; he was not. Opening her mouth to speak, she found herself interrupted before she could start, puzzled at the smile that touched the other elf's mouth.

"We should take advantage of this lull in duty," Solas said suddenly. "This is our chance to take the trip we wanted to, is it not? I wanted to show you the place in Crestwood, the place where the Veil is thin. We should go as soon as we have the chance."

"Then I'll talk to Miryam," Erafen said. "I'll wait until she's done with Cullen first, though." She grinned, positive of what was going on in her friend's room.

"Oh, I don't believe they'd notice if you knocked the door in with a fireball," he agreed, just as amused. "New love, young and reckless. Those moments alone leave room for no one else in the world."

Erafen shook her head, still smiling. "As if we know _nothing_ about that, hm?"

"I believe we may have an idea," Solas told her.

"Well, speaking of other people in the world, I do have a few things to do. Tonight?" she asked.

"As ever," he affirmed. One more kiss, and he released her, letting Erafen wander off to her duties.


	35. Setheneran

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erafen makes a discovery, plays Wicked Grace, and goes on a little trip with Solas.

Miryam practically shoved Erafen at the chance to take a small vacation.

"Please, if any of us have earned it, it's you! Take your quiet elf and go make noise, or whatever it is you want to do in rainy Crestwood," Miry insisted. "Or whatever you want to do to each other in Crestwood." She winked. "Now go, pack, go off and have a good time."

"Very well," Erafen said with false resignation. "I will make the great sacrifice. Are you sure you'll be ok?"

"I'm sure we'll live, just not as efficiently. Don't worry, 'Fen. You've earned this."

"Thank you, _falon_ ," the elf said, thanking her friend with a tight hug. "Now when I get back, I want to know if you tried that thing with Cullen."

"You're horrible," Miryam laughed.

"I am."

Miryam winked, and shooed her friend off to prepare for her trip.

"Keep little Sera out of trouble," Erafen called as she skipped off.

The rest of her day was spent busy, making sure her loose ends were tied up. She had a few things to discuss with Leliana, making sure a few more bits of correspondence went to the right people. Next it was to Josephine, having her send an missive to Briala for discussions before too long. She headed off to Cullen after, making sure he and Cassandra were on the same page on what to do with the remaining Templars serving the Inquisition.

One pleasant surprise, however, made her stop and smile. The rescued cat, Iron Bull the Second, had not been seen among Skyhold's feline population for at least a few weeks. Erafen heard a small soft mewling sound, and looking in a hole in the stone wall, she found the cat and four little kittens. Feeling like a young girl with her discovery, 'Fen fetched food and water for the new mother, and once this task was done, she continued about her day.

She didn't run into Solas much that day except to check for his plans, but she also was intensely busy making sure things would be smooth while she was away. Things were actually wrapped up before terribly long, and when Erafen went to the tavern to have a drink with Iron Bull and Sera.

"We're going to do a few rounds of Wicked Grace tonight," Bull told her. "Varric wanted to get Miryam to have a break tonight, and you're leaving tomorrow, so let's do it. Think your elf boy plays?"

"Solas isn't much of a gambler, and he was going to finish his mural tonight before we leave," 'Fen told him. "I doubt he'd be offended if I left him to it. I will have him to myself for the next week. It's not like we're joined at the hip."

"Not right now, you're not," Sera snorted. "I thought lovey-dovey people were all around each other all the time, but not you two."

"Well, it's also not like we're horny teenagers," Erafen pointed out. "We have our own lives to live. We come back to talk about them and then enjoy our time together when we have it. Now come, if we're having a game tonight, we should rearrange a few things and request food and drinks."

The group worked together to pull a few tables around, Cullen showing up to assist when he was finally convinced to join. Before too long, Varric had Miryam coming around, and a few of the others came around. Dorian himself was rather entertaining, insisting Erafen sit at his side.

"A shame we can't get Vivienne to play," he said. "But she has courtly things to do, or whatever it is she does up on her balcony. I once checked up on her. I thought I may have caught her sharpening the horns on her hat.

"I like Vivienne, you know," Erafen said. "Once we get past the social status and different background, we've had some very interesting conversations. I think we have an understanding."

"Certainly not about fashion, _darling_ ," Dorian told her, tugging at a braid.

"Stop that, you," the elf teased. "I do adore you, Dorian. A shame, really, that I'm not some strapping young man that could steal your heart."

"A shame, indeed, and you would still probably be taken with a certain mysterious elf," the Tevinter man said.

"True enough," Erafen agreed happily.

Iron Bull sat on Dorian’s other side, giving him a rather sly look. “ _Kadan_ is also taken, regardless.”

“ _Kadan_?” Erafen wondered.

“Same as what Solas calls you, sweetling: _vhen’an_ ,” Dorian said quietly, tone soft and serious. “And this big lummox has no sense of discretion.”

That night, all in their circle save Leliana, Vivienne, and Solas gathered around the joined tables, exchanging stories and playing Wicked Grace, a game Erafen admitted she had little skill in. It didn't matter; she wasn't really playing for money, but as Varric once told Solas in her company, they were playing for stories. To the elf, it was a bonding moment, one she was grateful for. Vivienne survived by being apart from the rest, and Solas, well, Erafen reckoned that he really did want to finish the mural. He'd been so intent. As for Leliana, well, who could play well against a master of secrets like her?

The stories were rowdy and entertaining, Miryam telling a few stories about her aunt that were pure scandal, and Erafen talking about life with the Dalish.

“I mean, Keeper Deshanna is quite a bit more accepting, but the moment weapons are shown, we have to act with caution. Sometimes we get some looking for us peacefully. There once was a City elf who came to join us, scared out of her wits by a pair of rabbits enjoying each other’s company. The sounds she made! Now she’s one of the better weavers in the camp,” Erafen told them. “Her name means ‘Rabbit’ now.”

The night went on, and the money gambled went into a pot to buy drinks for the next game. Cullen ended up losing his armor on a bet with Josephine, which essentially wrapped up the night of gaming so that the others could let the man leave with his dignity intact. Erafen took it upon herself to get a very drunk Sera upstairs and tucked in, and afterwards she went back to check on Solas. Before taking the long route to his work area, she closed her eyes, sending out her senses, and found him outside of the tavern.

“I just finished,” he explained, smiling a private warm smile for Erafen. “The wait wasn't long at all.”

“I had to tuck Sera in. She loves to drink, but her tolerance is shite,” ‘Fen said, shaking her head.

“Best things ended at the time they did. We have quite the trip ahead of us tomorrow,” Solas pointed out, and with that, he led the way back to their shared room.

——

The trip to Crestwood was uneventful for the most part, and the weather was better than it had been described to Erafen. It was gorgeous countryside, rich and green with breeze blowing over the waters to keep things cool and fresh. The pair explored most of the area on foot, exploring caves and collecting things. Solas more than once spoke of things that lived in certain places, buildings long gone and ruins already crumbled to dust. The first night, they camped near a farm, wandering the Fade and following trails through a town that no longer existed.

The whole time, Erafen had a feeling of anticipation, like Solas wanted to tell her something and was waiting for the right time. She remembered that he wanted to show her a certain place, but he had yet to take her there after three days of exploring and enjoying each other.

“Solas, there was a are you wanted to show me, did you not?” Erafen finally asked. “We've been everywhere but this place where the Veil is thin. _Setheneran_?”

He nodded, though something seemed to frustrate him. The expression turned to resignation and then a small smile. “Of course. It’s a place that is very special to me. Imagine my surprise to find that wyverns took it over.”

“They’re not there now, are they?” Erafen wondered.

“No, they shouldn't have returned. A spirit dwells in the Fade there now to protect it,” Solas explained, and he led the way.

The walk wasn't terribly far; most of their adventuring had been on foot so they could enjoy the scenery without being limited to roads. They approached a cave, guarded by a statue of Fen’Harel, its path dark but well-worn, and the pair each summoned veilfire to help them see. They emerged into an area sealed off from the rest of the world, its walls painted with murals, statues of great harts standing watch, facing each other as a sort of archway.

“You were right,” ‘Fen told him as they entered. “The Veil is thin here. It tingles. It’s… glorious.”

“This place is indeed ancient, and save for its previous tenants, untouched these centuries,” Solas informed her. “I brought you here because this has been a place of beginnings and endings, a place of decisions and events that have transformed fates. It was this place that I hoped to show you what you mean to me.”

Erafen looked over her shoulder at him, turning to face the other elf. “I have some ideas,” she told him with a wink.

“I will bear that in mind,” Solas replied, amused. “But no, the only thing I have to offer you is the truth.”

“I know the truth,” Erafen said gently. “Unless it is the rest of the truth.”

Solas approached, taking her hands, and he looked her face over, seeming as if he was deciding. “Your _vallaslin_ ,” he said.

“What dedicated me to that which Mythal represents,” ‘Fen told him.

“They are slave markings,” Solas said. “Owners would mark slaves with those in honor of the gods they served. I know that’s not why you took the markings of Mythal, but…”

“No, I.. I understand. They still are a remnant of a time of suffering, and the Dalish forgot,” she replied, though her eyes were sad. "Another thing my people got wrong."

“I did not tell you to hurt you. I know they do not define you,” he told her gently. “There is a spell. I can remove the _vallaslin_ if you wish.”

Erafen touched her cheeks. “I took them after a human tried to rape me,” she said plainly. “It was why I was nervous our first time, do you remember? My magic erupted; I killed him. Mythal, to me, symbolized protection, what I wanted to do for my people.” Her chin tilted up, proudly and almost defiant. “I need no markings to be a protector or to remind myself of my own strength. Cast your spell; remove the _vallaslin_.”

“You have… moved on, then,” Solas considered. “Come, sit.”

The two went closer to the edge of the small pond, kneeling in front of each other. Solas held his hands over Erafen’s face, slowing at her cheeks, and the skin underneath seemed to reclaim lost matter, the marks fading. Scar tissue remained, and then in the next instant, the shine and thickness smoothed out into healed flesh.

“ _Ar lasa mala revas_ ,” Solas said solemnly, and he stood, helping Erafen up. “You are… so beautiful.”

“I was always free, you know,” Erafen told him softly. “The marks only bound me to memory.”

“I would have you bound to nothing,” he told her. His hand found her now-bare cheek, brushing loose copper strands out of the way, and he moved in, his kiss gentle at first, deepening as Erafen slid her arms around him. Her leg lifted when Solas insistently grabbed her rear.

He pulled back to look at her, the love in his face present even as sadness took over. “And I must free you again. I will not bind you to my duty. This cannot happen again.” He went to take a step back, but Erafen reached for his arm.

“Solas, look at me,” she said.

“ _Vhen’an_ , please,” he told her, resolve still arguing against his wants. "I can't."

Erafen took a deep breath, making up her mind. “ _Din. Tel’jutuas ara’vir_.”

“ _Vhen’an_ , you…” Solas froze, looking her in the eyes, his own widening in realization.

Erafen released her breath, decision made, and she spoke one word.

“Fen’harel.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got my sorry butt out of bed at 6:00 AM to post this because it was burning in my brain. Don't hate me yet; the story is far from over! As always, love you guys, and if you ever want to chat with me out of AO3, shoot me a message at fenenaste.tumblr.com or kuroutsubasa.tumblr.com.
> 
> Translations! (Again, thanks to fenxshiral.tumblr.com)
> 
> Ar lasa mala revas. - You are now free.  
> Din. Tel’jutuas ara’vir. - No. You will not create my path. (Pretty much: You don't get to decide for me.)


	36. Himasa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas is a little too used to making the hard decisions. Erafen is a stubborn little thing.

The two stood, the moment frozen in time, air hanging heavy between them. His still faced away, turned to go, held in place by a slender hand on his arm, fingers gripping his sleeve tightly. He broke eye contact, turning away. Solas couldn't look at her, knowing if he did, he wouldn't have the abiity to turn away again.

Erafen broke the silence, repeating her words.

“ _Din. Tel’jutuas ara’vir_.” she said, boldness in her voice. “Fen’Harel."

Solas swallowed hard, a tremor shaking him, and he finally turned fully to face Erafen. His hand reached out out to her throat. This was not an attack; he merely traced the lines the Fade left on her where a wolf’s jaw had taken her weeks ago.

“ _Dirthas ame revas, esayan ea nar_ ,” Erafen continued, her eyes never leaving his. “Deny your name or not; I _know_ it to be you. You are the Dread Wolf. You are Fen'Harel."

Solas stepped back, still looking away, and finally, slowly, he turned around. His eyes found her, his expression seeming to argue with himself. “I was not careful enough,” he finally said. “I was selfish; I did not want to lose you.”

“I’m not an idiot,” she said, almost snapping. “You _wanted_ me to catch you. You brought me here to confess, and then you lost your nerve. Why else would you take me a place where the Fade’s touch feels like _yours_? Why bring me here this place guarded by a statue dedicated to you?”

“You are not wrong,” Solas, no, Fen’Harel said in a low voice. “About any of this. About me.”

“Then why end things?” Erafen asked him, voice shaking. "Why do this?!"

“ _Vhen’an_ …” he faltered.

“Don't ' _vhen'an_ ' me! What is the truth?!” her voice rose, and she reached for him, her hand at his throat even as his held hers. "Tell me!"

“I love you!” His voice broke, even as it rose to match hers. "It has _always_ been the truth!" Anger and a touch of fear flashed in his eyes.

“Then why leave me as if you do not?!” she demanded, heedless of her lover's reputation and the ire she provoked.

“To keep you safe! To keep your hands clean of my mistakes!” he snapped in return, this time his voice raised. “To… to make sure I see this through. I saw myself giving up everything for you.”

“And who said you get to decide this for me? Ancient ancestral god or no, whatever or whoever you are, I am not a child to have you dictate my life! You can show me the respect to at least discuss this with me. I will decide where my fate leads!” Erafen bit her lip immediately, eyes watering even as she stared defiantly at him.

“Do you not trust me?” Her voice shook.

“It is not _you_ I distrust,” Fen’Harel growled, voice deep and low in contrast to his prior outburst.

"If I am not worth giving up whatever this is you must do, please tell me. I am not so selfish that I would have you give up that which was likely centuries in the planning," she said, her voice quivering. "But I will not have you leave me without telling me why. I will not have you decide for me as if I were some helpless child that needs someone to think for her."

"That is the problem," he told her, voice lowering to where Erafen almost couldn't hear his words. "You _are_ worth it."

They remained locked this way for a few moments longer, and as if planned, released the other at the same moment, anger fading. Stepping forward, they met each other in a tight embrace, Erafen’s cheek resting against his chest. She choked back an angry sob, focusing instead on the strong heartbeat under her ear.

“Tell me,” she said softly but firmly, and stepped away, heading towards a fallen log. They sat side by side, neither looking at the other. The older elf stared at his hands, looking truly lost, frustrated, angry, and perhaps a bit afraid.

“I did an unforgivable thing,” he said. “I took my perfect heart and tried to make her more than she was. I did not want to watch you fall as many others did. I didn't want to see that will broken, see you be any less than what I saw in you. You _know_ what I did.”

“And you did not do this against my will,” Erafen told him. “You offered; I accepted. It’s not your call to decide if I should forgive you or not.”

“You accepted without even knowing what it was offered, my heart, and I made no attempt to tell you. How can you accept that?” He turned to look at her.

"You did tell me, with what you spoke of Ghilan'nain, when you let me see the truth as you spoke to Abelas," 'Fen insisted.

"It was still a betrayal," the 'god' told her. "You were decieved. I deceived you. This knowledge came after the fact."

“Deceived? Really? Think of everything I’ve learned. My entire world was turned upside down, the foundations of what I knew ripped from under me. The only constant I had was you, the Inquisition, my quest for knowledge, and now this connection to the Fade. I see _so_ much more now, feel so much! How can you ask me to regret this gift?” Erafen let out an exasperated groan, eyes trailing up to the starry night sky overhead in her frustration. “How could I regret _you_?”

“You would still insist on remaining with me even with things I must do, things I still can’t reveal?” he asked. “Even if it means I must walk away again? You already realized that I may have to leave when this business with Corypheus is over." He let out a long harsh sigh. " _Vhen'an_ , I have done _many_ things…”

“If we are separated by circumstance, then we are,” Erafen said. “But do not destroy the one brilliant piece of perfection to ever grace this ugly brutish world. As for the rest, did you not see there’s nothing I won’t try to understand? Forgiveness is far better than holding onto bitterness. We could have a future.”

Fen’harel was silent, considering her words, unwilling to move to break the quiet that surrounded them. Finally, he reached out to brush Erafen’s hair aside. When he spoke, his voice broke again, the words almost a whisper. “What is the truth?”

“I love you,” she said, facing him, leaning her cheek into his touch.

“And that is enough?” he wondered.

“It is.” Erafen finally let herself smile at him.

"Do you forgive me?" Solas met her eyes again.

" _Always_ ," 'Fen replied, tears flowing freely.

“I did not want you bound,” he told her, still not trusting his voice.

“Far too late for that. _Undirthas ame revas, esayan ea nar_. I chose. I would rather have one breath between us or not breathe at all.” Erafen reached to the pouch at her hip, hands shaking as she produced a smaller leather-wrapped parcel. "You said breath is life, and a shared breath unites lives. Those words are spoken at _saota_."

Solas watched her untie the leather laces, frayed from years of being carried around. The way Erafen treated it, it was the most precious artifact from her short lifetime.

“This was my father’s, and my mother retrieved it after he died,” she continued, unwrapping the folded skin to reveal a pair of rings, made of silverite and ironwood. “Dalish custom, yes, but I wanted you to have one.”

“A promise,” he said.

“A future,” Erafen amended. “Both, actually.”

“When Corypheus is defeated, I do not know what will happen,” he told her. "I don't know what comes after, what sort of future that will be."

“I don’t need to be at your side to have you with me,” she replied.

"Erafen..." He sighed her name.

“Do I have forever?” She bit her lip in anticipation. "I am no goddess, nor will I ever see myself as such, but I know I am changed. One can't touch that primal breath and not be."

“I don’t know. I’m one being, and it took all of us before to elevate Ghilan'nain,” he replied. “I gave you what I had. I would give more if I could. My heart, do you _want_ forever?”

“ _Now_ he asks,” Erafen said, laughing under her breath. "I want the future," she told him. "If forever is in this world or the Fade, so be it."

‘Solas’ looked her face over, eyes finally settling on hers. “If I have learned one thing in my many years, in my wanderings in the Fade, it’s that nothing is forever. There are no inevitabilities. The future is ever unknown.”

“Then why try to decide mine for me?” Erafen challenged.

“I believe I have learned my lesson, _vhen’an_ ,” he replied quietly. "A mistake I will not repeat."

“So a question remains: are we over? Do we part ways here?” She locked eyes with his again. “Do you want to end this between us? If it’s what you honestly desire, I won’t refuse. I won’t like it, but I also won’t decide for you, either.”

“No,” came the low reply. “My intention, as you guessed, was a confession, to tell you everything. You were right: I lost my nerve like a coward. The thought of rejection, I admit, was one I couldn’t take.”

“Silly love,” Erafen chided. “I am rather fond of calling you 'Solas'. It’s fitting.”

He let out a sound, more a huff than a laugh. “You are still so fearless.”

“And you, my love, are not infallible,” ‘Fen teased. “Proud, yes, but as foolish as anyone afflicted with relationship woes. How many people have I known that overthink things where love is concerned? Ever since we began this, I’ve had to remind myself, sometimes forcefully, that respect and trust are at the core."

Solas reached to Erafen's hand, taking the larger ring from the pair resting in the unfolded leather, and carefully, he slipped it on his own finger. It wasn't until she wore her mother's half that he spoke. "I have nothing for you in return, _vhen'an_."

"Not so," she replied. "There is something you can give me. _Ar isalan_..."

It took a moment for him to realize what she intended, and before he could ask if Erafen was sure, she nodded firmly, again locking her eyes to his. He considered it very briefly, and then leaned forward, bringing his mouth to hers, this time to share breath instead of merely infuse. Solas murmured low words, ancient and resonant, a vow Erafen heard at the joinings of other couples, but never before did she hear them before with such conviction. When she repeated those words as her own vow, her heart raced.

They parted long enought to remove what they wore, both heading down to the water's edge, again kneeling there. The vows were spoken again, this time in unison, breath shared between them as they did so. Time and words had no meaning after that, the two consummating their union on the grassy bank of ancient deep waters, the outside world fading to a distant thought in their minds. The only witnesses were the statues and paintings of the ancient elves, birdsong their fanfare; the wind across the water was the bridal veil. All that existed was this place where the Veil was thin, where the Fade blessed their joining, and where the future was unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just as antsy to see this posted as the rest of you. SO I AM DOING IT EARLY.
> 
> You guys have no idea how many times I rewrote this chapter. I added, removed, agonized, and eventually just went with it. Erafen tends to write herself, and Solas is a stubborn bastard. =P 
> 
> I know I've said it before, but I absolutely LOATHE the trope of one leaving for the good of the other, making the decision with absolutely no input from the other party or discussing it with them. It's just... ugh. Disrespectful. So yeah. 
> 
> The story is far from over, by the way. There's more to come, and I'm not done fiddling with the feels. 
> 
> Translation time! (again thanks to fenxshiral.tumblr.com)
> 
> Din. Tel’jutuas ara’vir.- No. You will not create my path.  
> Dirthas ame revas, esayan ea nar. - You speak that I am free, but I choose to be yours.  
> Undirthas ame revas, esayan ea nar. - You spoke that I am free, but I choose to be yours. (Erafen was repeating herself.)  
> Ar isala... - I desire...
> 
> Also, look here: http://fenxshiral.tumblr.com/post/109265471143/elvish-new-words  
> Tell me when you find out what "himasa" and "saota" mean.


	37. Athim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erafen finds a few surprises when she returns to Skyhold.

Erafen woke that morning with a cramp in her leg and the most wonderful sense of soreness in the rest of her body. Her lungs were tired as if she'd run a marathon; her head buzzed as if she'd bathed in wine. Surely no other bride had an experience like that!

She eased herself up, stretching where she lay in her bedroll, clothing forgotten as it had been for the last two days since she and Solas (she would still call him that) discussed and decided upon the fate of their relationship. How fortunate she considered herself to be! How many times had he told her it would be easier if she was the Inquisitor, but now she understood why. If she were in command like that, she would not have had the liberty to put her own desires first. If she'd been as woefully busy as Miryam had been, so important that the entire land relied on her, there would have been no 'blessing' of breath, no need to have the bond of the Fade due to the anchor, and no freedom to take what she wanted for herself.

Solas still slept, looking almost as worn as she was, but she managed to get herself up and moving, stretching slowly. The ancient pool nearby was her goal, and she slipped in to swim the fog from her brain, refreshed by the cold water. The joining that consummated their vows was slow and intense, but afterwards? Frantic and fierce, the two giving in and testing the other to see just how far they could go.

Moreover, they tried to see how strong Erafen's connection to the Fade was, to see if she was really so changed, but it was difficult to tell. There was still much she needed to do and learn, many things she'd have to do to strengthen that primal spark within herself, but now that she knew it was there, it was much easier to feed. Solas told her that night that it would probably take at least one more of his kind to help, a luxury that was long gone, but at the very least, she was far stronger.

'Fen pulled herself out from under the water, kicking up to float on her back. Her vallaslin was gone, and with it possibly her ties to the Dalish, but she did not regret it. She would have to travel to Wycome to speak with Keeper Deshanna and her sister, Eradahl, but hopefully they would understand. She'd done her best to send what she knew to them, to prepare them for all she discovered. A pity, really, that she couldn't (and wouldn't) tell them the truth of her lover. At the very least, she could clear his reputation some, let others know he was trusted of Mythal and did the goddess no harm.

A splash ahead woke her from her thoughts, and hands took her shoulders to pull her to a strong chest. "You were kind to let me sleep," Solas said, mouth at her neck.

"I should have stayed with you in our bedroll. You're enthusiastic when you're worked up and angsty," Erafen replied, turning in his arms. She moved in as if she would lavish him with her kisses, but at the last minute, she rose and dunk the demigod under the water, then swam off, laughing. Of course, Solas gave chase, finally tackling his lady on the bank of the pond.

Some time later, she lay there, looking up at him as he brushed her hair aside. "This is real," she said.

"This is. I still fear...mm?" He was silenced by her fingers on his lips. He kissed them instead.

"Are we to have more confessions?" Erafen asked. "I told you, I'm yours. I don't break my vows, especially these. I trust you to keep yours."

"There are things I fear, but none of them are your loyalty, _vhen'an_ , nor my faithfulness to you," Solas told her. "If you are quite refreshed now, we really do need to return to Skyhold."

"So much for abandoning sense and responsibility," 'Fen snorted, but she knew she never would do that to Miryam. Perhaps when Corypheus was gone, she would feel better about withdrawing to tend to her own plans.

The pair bathed in the pool, and once dried off, they dressed. Erafen took her time, however, with her braided hairstyle. She pulled the rows of braids into a bun, letting the ends hang loose at her neck.

"When we first met, you used to wear your braids tied at the nape," Solas observed, tugging at one of the hanging ends. "This fashion, what you do now, was favored by some of the crafters in my time. Elegant, but practical."

"You seem to have some fascination with my hair," Erafen teased him. She reached to rest her hand over her love's head, feeling faint stubble. "You aren't bald naturally. What is it like?"

"My hair?" Solas asked, eyes traveling upwards to look at Erafen's wrist. "I wore it quite long in the old days, very thick and black. It was always in the way, but it evoked the reaction I was looking for. If I choose, I could regrow it with magic."

"I was curious about that," 'Fen said, removing her hand to adjust the last of her buckles. "And I know legend and actual history are two different things, but well, as a 'god', should you not have more power? Something happened."

"I did have quite a bit more, but I slept after... after things happened." He still hadn't told Erafen everything, and she didn't press, understanding her ignorance was his way to keep her safe. Relationships truly are a series of compromises. "I was quite weak when I awoke. I should have nurtured my own inner flame, as I have advised you, but vision is always clearer when looking behind us."

"We are sometimes better at advising than following our own wisdom," Erafen granted him. "I surmised that the orb Corypheus has is yours. I don't care _how_ he got it, but it should be returned to you."

Solas merely nodded, turning next to wrap up their shared bedroll. 'Fen turned to gather up the rest of their belongings, packing them away for the trek back to where the Inquisition's caravan would be waiting for them. Before leaving the cave, however, he pulled her close, merely holding tightly to the smaller elf.

"You can always come here," he told her. "If you need to, this place is yours."

"I'll remember," Erafen said solemnly.

"Come, we should be on our way." Solas shouldered his pack, and once his lady was ready, they left.

\----

The return to Skyhold was without fanfare, but still there was a tingling air of excitement as Miryam came running into the courtyard to meet the returning pair. It didn't miss the Inquisitor's notice that there was a new closeness between her dearest friend and the other elf.

"I will put our things away," Solas offered. "The two of you should go on, catch up. Don't let me interfere with your duties."

"Thank you," Miryam said, practically dragging Erafen off towards the castle. Once the two were upstairs in the Inquisitor's room, a flow of information came out.

"Wait, what?" Erafen asked.

"Representatives from nearly every Dalish clan out there have come, seeking you," Miry said. "They all say they have received word from your Keeper, and have left their own clans to join the Inquisition, to stand with us as a sign of being a part of the whole ofThedas."

Erafen found herself blinking hard, surprised and a bit confused. "My letters were just what we learned at Mythal's temple, nothing more, no real interpretation. I did include what Solas told us, the additions to the stories that were lost to time."

"That had to have stirred something up," Miryam said. She paused, looking her friend over. "Your tattoos are gone."

"Solas removed them. I no longer need them to remind me of who I am and where I came from. In the ancient days, they marked a slave," 'Fen explained. "I know that is no longer their meaning, but at the same time, I am no longer the simple Dalish girl I was when I came to Haven. It's time to reflect that."

"No, you aren't," Miryam agreed. "And I'm not the sheltered noble Circle mage I was, either. Our eyes are open; there is no closing them again." She let out a sigh. "I have come to accept that this is where I will spend the rest of my days, what I shall do until the Maker calls me."

"You will always have my support, even if I am called away," Erafen promised. "And I will remain here as long as I can."

"But you have the Emerald Graves as your land," Miry pointed out.

"I do. It's still not mine to control, but I have an idea now. Especially if I can convince the Dalish who've joined us that settling the Graves would be a good idea." The elf folded her arms, thoughtful.

"A new Halamshiral?" the Inquisitor wondered.

"Perhaps," Erafen said. "But not one that repeats the mistakes our people made in the past. It's only the start of a plan, _falon_ , but the potential! Maybe it should be ' _Halam'abelas_ ', Sorrow's End."

"You have the Inquisition's support, officially," Miryam said. "Form your plan, work out the details, and I will be behind you." She reached to pull her friend into a hug, the embrace lingering.

"I have a secret for you," Erafen said, pulling away.

"You and Solas eloped," Miryam said plainly. "I saw the Dalish rings and how close you two were. I expected either that would happen or he'd get cold feet and break things off."

The elf made a curious face at her friend, an odd smile forming. "You are very perceptive. Truly an inquisitor."

"I'd be awful at my job otherwise," Miryam laughed. "So then I must tell you: Cullen _proposed_."

"What? He came right out and asked?" Erafen grinned, excited.

"Well, he'd been on about 'Oh, I don't know what you want' and second guessing himself, so I finally told him he was a big idiot and that he was stuck with me. So you know what he says next?" Miryam laughed. She stood, straightening her tunic to do her best impression of her fiancé.

"'Milady', he said to me," Miryam continued, hand extended. "'If I may be so bold, would you do the honor of being my bride when our enemy is defeated?' I think I might have squealed like a schoolgirl!" She sat again, laughter echoing through the room.

"Miry! I'm so excited for you! I'm just surprised, though," Erafen said.

"He said that seeing you and Solas working so effectively together, your relationship not interfering with your duties at all, let him think that perhaps he and I should take one thing we wanted for ourselves," Miryam said. "And so, we are."

"Good for you both," 'Fen said, hugging her friend again.

"You are not Andrastian, no, but I would have you there at my side as my Lady of Honor," Miryam said.

The elf blinked hard, tears in her eyes. "You have my word: I will be there."

\----

The elves that waited for Erafen were quite the mixed group. Some did not wear vallaslin, many did, but all of them were genuinely surprised to see the First to the Inquisition did not wear hers.

"Erafen!" a woman cried out, and she rushed up, taking her former clanmate's face in her hands. "You were marked for Mythal! Where did they go?"

"Sylana!" Erafen blinked hard to hide the tears at seeing her old friend again. "Gone, given up as an offering to the future. Why are you here? Where is your son?"

"He's with the other children. He came into his magic younger than most," Sylana said. "We were going to go to another clan, but then Keeper Deshanna received your letter. This gathering, it was her idea. She sent word to other clans, those who would listen, and asked that each Keeper send people in support of the Inquisition. Being here feels like the last _Arlathvhen_ , everyone sharing information and asking. The Inquisitor told us what was seen at the Temple of Mythal, and she says you have walked in halls blessed of Dirthamen. Then she told us of Fen'Harel at Mythal's temple, of the Sentinels and the words of their leader."

"Everything we knew changes with this," Erafen said with a small smile.

"We have all decided that even as our Keepers still maintain the old stories, we are here for answers," Sylana said, voice sad. "We can no longer hide in our legends. This world will take us. My friend, you were so right, and we thought you well on your way to being a traitor."

"Maybe I am, still. There's a fine line of difference between traitor and rebel," 'Fen said.

"Come, I will take you to meet the others," Sylana said, and she took Erafen by the hand to walk among the gathered elves camping outside of the stables. It was really just a small number of tents, people sharing them to save space. Others, Sylana explained, were camped in one of the disused towers.

“We are only a dozen right now, but hopefully a few others will be sending representatives.” Sylana continued. “You know how our people are. To be honest, I almost didn’t want to come, but I couldn’t face my son being sent away.”

“How many among the gathered are mages?” Erafen asked, looking around.

“At least half, not counting my boy,” the older Dalish said. “A few clans took this as an opportunity to get rid of their extra mages.”

“Their loss,” ‘Fen said. “This will not be easy work, but I have a place for us. We can settle the lands our ancestors lived in. We have a home in Orlais.” With that, she went around to meet the other elves, her friendly nature starting to soothe distrust and bring quiet natures into the light.

She glanced over her shoulder, looking up at the pathway between the castle and battlements, and there she saw Solas watching, nodding at her. Erafen was certain she saw him smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am actually running out of chapters to post, so my usual two per day will go to one per day. I'm working on the end of the story now, but I have plenty of ideas for the next installment. 
> 
> And yes, I took "Sorrow's End" from Elfquest. =)
> 
> Translation Notes, again with help from fenxshiral.
> 
> Athim - Humility  
> Halam'abelas - The end + Sorrow


	38. Banal Vhen'an

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erafen meets someone she could have easily been.

For the next series of days, no sign of Corypheus could be found. The Inquisition sent forces out to reinforce key locations, to help other places rebuild, and to ferret out information. The lack of information was nerve-wracking for the leadership, though the chance to rest wasn’t unwelcome.

Erafen’s efforts with the Dalish pilgrims started paying off as they wrote to their home clans, telling them of living in a place their ancestors once claimed. A few hand-picked explorers were sent out to Mythal’s temple now that it was abandoned by its Sentinels, charged with recording everything they saw there, copying every work, and cataloguing it for the records for Skyhold’s library. Erafen also began putting work into the home being built in the Emerald Graves, her largest intention was making a place that would be safe for elves.

Other than telling Miryam, there was no formal announcement or Solas and Erafen’s union. The news did spread, whispered and speculated about, but no one made any statement of confirmation or any kind of disapproval other than a “Darling, are you sure this is wise?” from Vivienne. In Erafen’s mind, nothing really was outwardly different. The changes were more subtle, things only those close to the pair would see.

“The looks between you both are far more intense, as if secrets pass between your minds with a glance,” Miryam observed, looking over at her friend as the two returned from meeting clerics.

“We have an understanding,” Erafen said. “It came close to ending. I trust him, but sometimes I still remember the look on his face before he tried to leave.”

“What? Why? It’s obvious to anyone how you both feel for each other,” Miry said, shocked. "What could make him wish to end this?"

“Fear. Overthinking. Duty. _Pride_.” Erafen let out a long sigh. “A relationship needs more than love to live. It needs respect, trust, courage, and humility, even when such things are threatened.”

“Is your beloved not named ‘Pride’?” the Inquisitor wondered, eyebrow raised.

“He is, and it fits him. He stands tall in the face of things that would bring him down,” ‘Fen told her. “But you and Cullen have come to understand this with each other, yes?”

“I suppose so,” Miryam allowed. “Every day we fear for each other, a new worry is voiced, but then we keep trying.”

“All any of us can do, _falon_ ,” the elf said, a warm smile showing.

"What did you do to convince him to stay?" Miry wondered.

"Made him talk to me like a grown up and not treat me like a child," 'Fen said, crossing her arms with a stubborn set to her face, soon erased by a broad grin.

Miryam laughed at that. "Well, I reckon your name will be changed to 'stubborn'. What's _Elvhen_ for stubborn?"

"I could tell you, but noooo, I'm stubborn," Erafen teased.

"Hmph," Miryam said, falling silent to 'out-stubborn' her friend.

The moment of quiet was not meant to last as the two turned around in unison at the very loud crash of one of the Great Hall’s doors being slammed open.

“WHERE IS HAWKE?!” a gruff voice demanded.

“Oh... shit.” Varric’s mutter could be heard through the now-silenced hall. “Hi, Fenris. Didn’t you get my letter?”

“Clearly not, dwarf, or I wouldn’t be here looking for her,” the voice snapped back. It belonged to a slender and well-muscled elf, a rather striking looking fellow with dark skin covered in silvery tattoos, stark snowy white hair falling loose in front of his angry eyes. When Erafen turned to walk closer, she had the sudden realization that those tattoos were lyrium.

“Welcome to Skyhold, Serrah Fenris,” she said, realizing who the darker elf was thanks to Varric’s book and, of course, the dwarf calling Fenris by name.

“Come on, Broody, be nice,” Varric said. “Hawke isn’t here; she’s gone to Weisshaupt to make sure the Grey Wardens were seen to.”

“Then I will go to Weisshaupt,” Fenris muttered, starting to turn around.

“Not right _now_ , one would hope,” Miryam said, approaching behind her First. “Stay for a few days, rest, and we will send word to Hawke to expect you. The Inquisition can see to your supplies.”

The dusky elf looked skeptical, and finally relaxed, taking a breath. “Very well. Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Shit, Broody, you know how to make an entrance,” Varric told him. He led the way over to introduce Fenris to the two women. “Ladies, this is Fenris, as I’m sure you figured out. Fenris, allow me to introduce Inquisitor Miryam Trevelyan and her First, Erafen Lavellan.”

Fenris nodded to each of them, antsy but trying to remain polite. “An honor. Forgive my outburst, please.”

“Welcome to Skyhold,” Miryam said. “As I said, please stay for a few days, and we’ll fill you in on what happened at Adamant with Hawke. I must excuse myself, however. I was on my way to the War Room. Erafen?” She sent both elves an apologetic look.

“You are busy, and I intruded. Of course,” Fenris said, and Erafen stepped forward so Miryam could leave.

“I was on my way to lunch. Perhaps you and Varric will join some of us at the tavern?” ‘Fen asked.

Fenris only nodded, looking uncomfortable. “Hawke truly is at Weisshaupt?” he asked, voice dangerously quiet.

Erafen nodded. “She is.”

“Come on, we’ll fill you in,” Varric told the elven man. “Go get Chuckles, ‘Fen. We’ll meet you there.”

The First nodded to the two, watching after with a little bit of bewilderment as Varric and Fenris started bickering at each other in hushed voices. “That was exciting,” she muttered under her breath. She paused about halfway there, however, feeling momentarily lightheaded. Maybe it was the lyrium, something about the newcomer's inlaid patterns that set her off. She shrugged and continued on her way.

It took little time to collect Solas, the two taking a moment to catch up on each other’s day. She said nothing to him, but Erafen always had this feeling that one day she’d walk into his rotunda and find him gone for good. She chided herself; Corypheus still had to be defeated.

“His accent did mark him as Tevinter,” she told the other elf. “I find it amazing, him enduring the lyrium like that and taking his freedom for himself.”

“Indeed,” Solas agreed. “The lyrium tattoos you mention, though, make me think in part of the _vallaslin_. I wonder if the ancient slave markings might have been inspiration, given how much of Tevinter’s culture was built on the backs of the elves they enslaved.”

"Very well could be, though I doubt seriously Serrah Fenris wishes to discuss them in depth," she answered.

"Is he so unpersonable?" Solas wondered.

“He’s just as sullen in person as Varric wrote him,” ‘Fen told him, walking alongside her beloved towards the stairs outside the Great Hall. "But he seems to have a good heart and sense of honor."

“Well, then, I am no longer the only brooding moody elf on the premises,” Solas said with some amusement.

Erafen laughed. “Oh no, you’re a special, _‘ma lath_ ,” she told him. “Sometimes I think you’re only grim and fatalistic to get me into bed.”

“ _Vhen’an_ , I am _always_ grim and fatalistic. Getting you into bed is an enjoyable side benefit,” he teased. “As if you would refuse, enthusiastic as you are.”

“I would be remiss in my marital duties otherwise,” she teased in return. "I've never seen you argue."

“Well, I would never accuse you of being lax in such things,” Solas said, pausing to give Erafen a smoldering look.

“Stop that, you, or we’ll be late for lunch,” ‘Fen said, biting her lip, and she moved forward to head into the tavern.

Varric already had food and ale ordered, telling stories about events in Kirkwall, Fenris speaking up to clarify a few things in his own dry way. A few others were at the table, listening intently and eating from the communal platter.

“Hawke was _not_ naked,” he spoke up. “She was wearing my trousers.”

“Not very well! Then again, I think she has bigger hips than yours!” Varric said, waving the other elves over to where he’d saved them seats.

“I have no complaints about Alona’s curves, thank you,” Fenris contested, coughing into his fist.

“We are quite a bit more slender than our human friends,” Solas commented, taking a seat after he held out a chair for Erafen.

“Well, Hawke darted out, mostly naked, and she hit the minstrel that insulted her mother over the head with his own lute. A shame, though; it was a nice lute. A good instrument like that shouldn’t suffer.” The dwarven storyteller winked as Erafen reached to take food from the plate closest to her.

“I was surprised to find you and Hawke apart,” she told Fenris.

“Not exactly what I wanted,” the sullen elf said, mood darkening. “She left one morning with a letter behind telling me that she was afraid I’d kill myself to protect her. Being without her is a small death every day. I will endure it no longer.”

Erafen felt a gentle touch against her hand; Solas moved his off, but not before she had a chance to see the ghost of a stricken expression. She nodded once in understanding and reassurance, and then she turned back to Fenris. “I apologize. I didn’t realize.”

“I stayed busy; she has a way of inspiring one to action,” the former slave said with a sigh.

“Sometimes that is all one can do,” Solas said, almost too low to hear. "Our own fears can stand in the way."

Fenris gave a firm nod. “Our lives are too short for such nonsense,” he said, and he let out a low curse in Tevene. “If only someone would resurrect Anders so that I might kill him all over.”

“I don’t think Hawke will turn you away this time,” Varric said. “We had a talk about you. She misses you, Broody, with all of your smiles and sunshine. You know she left because of the big target on her back.”

“It’s not something insurmountable though, Varric,” Erafen said, thinking for a moment that she might have been bitter and lonely like Fenris. Seeing the other elf so upset, she easily saw the potential in herself, or worse, to lose herself in her work and let the pain fester. Stealing a glance at Solas, she saw his features neutral, but there was a faint tremor to his hand.

“If she had made a request, I would have agreed. The fact that she left is what makes this… arrgh.” Fenris stopped, taking a deep drink of his wine. “We _will_ talk.”

“And people wonder why I stay single,” Varric said, trying to lighten the mood.

“It’s overrated if you ask me,” Cadash finally spoke up, siting at the other end of the table next to Scout Harding. “Well, I think really everything is overrated.”

“He’s just a little upset because I won’t let him go on the Deep Roads scouting run next week,” Harding said, laughing. “Rules are rules!”

“As long as you’re coming back,” the other dwarf told her, giving the scout a wink and a smile.

“As if you could keep me away!” Harding replied, laughing.

“So Varric is the only confirmed bachelor here?” Dorian said, announcing his presence as he joined the others. “Oh, it’s…”

“Pavus,” Fenris looked at him, scowling. “I remember you, or more, I remember your father.”

“You are the same elf, then,” Dorian said. “After reading the riveting tale Varric here wrote, I thought you might be the same that escaped that bastard Danarius. My father said the man performed some sort of unconventional experiment and then there were reports of his body being shipped back to Minrathous a year later."

“The idea made flesh,” Fenris snarled. "Yes, it was me. _Na via lerno victoria_."

"Indeed," the mage said, solemn for the moment, though only the moment.

"Translation for those of us not fluent in Tevene?" Cadash asked.

Surprisingly, it was Scout Harding that spoke up. "'Only the living know victory.' What? I picked up a little Tevene here and there!" She poked Cadash in the arm. "Don't look at me like that."

“Dorian left Tevinter on his own,” Erafen spoke up. “He’s making a difference here with us.”

“And much in Tevinter is _wrong_ , which vexes me so,” Dorian added. “Now that’s out of the way, let’s _do_ be friends, yes?”

“He’s the _good_ Tevinter,” Cadash added, knowing the human mage would roll his eyes at the jab. "Well, at least, he's entertaining."

Fenris let out a sigh. “This Inquisition is _not_ what I expected.”

“Nothing any of us are involved in is what anyone expects,” Varric pointed out. "No one expects the Inquisition," he paused, taking a drink, "...to be funny."

"I will grant you that," Fenris agreed, and he released another sigh. "And to you, First to the Inquisition, thanks to you and your Inquisitor. I will let my horse rest tomorrow, and then I will go on to Weisshaupt. If she's not there, dwarf..."

"She's there! I got a letter from her! And I'll tell her to stay put this time," Varric insisted.

Fenris seemed to grudgingly accept the dwarf's words, and he went into his food, again correcting stories as he saw fit. At one point, however, he watched Erafen and Solas, the First only noticing when she looked in his direction once to see the former slave immediately look away.

'Fen knew what it was, however. She knew full well what he was feeling, because she came close to feeling it, too.

Fenris was missing his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, Fenris, because I was PISSED at Hawke. PISSED. And pissed that Fenris' voice actor was in the game BUT NO FENRIS.
> 
> Also, I'm fairly certain I'm working on the second to last chapter now. ;_; I don't want this to be over. I feel like the Tenth Doctor right now. I DON'T WANT TO GO.
> 
> Translations, of which there's one, and it's not Elvhen:
> 
> Na via lerno victoria - Only the living know victory.


	39. Fen'lin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erafen feels like she's coming down with something, but she's still Skyhold's Den Mother.

The next morning, Erafen reluctantly pulled herself from dreams, stopping to press a gentle kiss to her beloved's forehead. Solas did not wake, but seemed to relax into his dreams. 'Fen smiled to see it, and she dressed quietly, setting out to check the orders for the morning expedition that would be leaving that day. Thankfully, it was only a small group consisting of two wagons of supplies that would be venturing to the Crossroads village in the Hinterlands.

The sun was just starting to rise when 'Fen caught movement on the battlements, a flash of red-violet on white indicating that their most recent guest was stalking the stone paths. Heaving a sigh, the First climbed the stairs to investigate.

"Fenris? Is that you?" she called out, and the stalking elf froze in his tracks, turning to face her.

"First," he replied shortly, giving her a nod.

"It's 'Erafen'," she insisted. "Come with me. I was about to find breakfast. I could eat an entire cheese wheel right now!"

Fenris nodded, following along as 'Fen led the way to the upstairs tavern entrance. There was no way Cabot, the dwarven barkeep, would be up at this early hour, not for a bit longer, but a covered plate of cheese and bread was out and ready on the bar. She cut off a chunk and took a bite.

"You know, I imagined you a little taller," she told the other elf.

"Varric exaggerates," Fenris replied, taking some cheese for himself. "I would rather he have left me out entirely, but then I think of Alona. I couldn't read before I met her. I was nothing but anger and vengeance. I learned a better way."

"And she left and took it with her, right?" Erafen asked.

"Yes," came the bitter reply.

"There's a dwarven saying, that love is like wearing your trousers on your face," 'Fen said. "It's something like thinking with your arse. Crude, but effective. Nothing is ever simple."

Fenris snorted, taking another bit of cheese. "I woke one morning not long after we left Kirkwall," he began. "There was a note pinned to my bedroll, and she was gone. I was angry that she let Varric know where she was, but only relayed messages to me via him. _Venhedis_..."

"That's Tevene, right? Sounds like one of our elven curses," she told him. " _Fenedhis_. And sorry, you were saying?"

"Well, I looked for her, but she is remarkably adept at eluding me," the brooding elf said. "And then I hear about Grey Wardens, Adamant, and... I went looking for her there, other places, and finally, I came here to get answers from Varric." He bit into his cheese with a bit more force than necessary. "I swore to be at her side."

Erafen looked at her bit of bread, considering. "She must know how you love her. It's fear that makes one leave like that." Her mind went to the conversation she had not long ago with Solas in Crestwood. "It takes a different sort of courage to overcome it. Nothing makes us as foolish as being in love."

"Foolish, is it? Perhaps so, but I will not suffer this foolishness any longer," Fenris snapped.

"Nor should you. The time we have is precious and not a thing to be wasted." She finished off the slice of bread, chewing thoughtfully. "So had she talked to you about separating, would you have agreed?"

"Maybe? Possibly? I don't know. She didn't give me the chance," he replied, swearing under his breath again. "I would have respected her wishes, I think. I suppose there is little arguing to do if one party has made up her mind."

"Not so," 'Fen said. "The respect comes into play when both parties discuss it, even if the outcome is the same, so I think. It still hurts, but at least... well, at least you get to make peace."

Fenris was quiet, eyes staring intently at the wooden bar under his hands, mind clearly racing. "I will remember that." He released a sigh, shoulders slumping. "I received word from Varric only about what happened at Adamant, realized how close I was to losing her before I ever saw her again, and I went looking. After the search failed, well... I suppose her going to Weisshaupt is the one thing I didn't consider."

"After having met her, I can see why you love her," Erafen told him. "And even more, I can see what's in you to love. Hawke is an idiot." She grinned at him.

He looked over at her curiously, not insulted, and then, despite himself, he grinned in return. "She can be, yes. I... thank you."

'Fen shrugged. "It's what I do, Fenris. You're welcome."

\----

Fenris left when the sun went down. It was from him that Erafen learned far more about the Mage Rebellion in Kirkwall, even if the sullen elf was quite a bit more biased against mages. 'Fen didn't really blame him, given what else she'd learned about his time in Tevinter and the things done to him. Meeting Fenris, however, did cement one thing in her mind, something that'd been theorized by others.

She was certain now that lyrium was alive. How else could it be bound into one's skin and not kill them? The lyrium tattoos, gorgeous as they were, could not be separated from Fenris, it now a living part of his body that allowed him to phase his hand through other matter. It made Erafen shudder to consider what the Tevinter elf would be like if it'd been the red substance fused with his flesh instead.

Long after Fenris and his horse disappeared across the bridge and into the distance, she and Varric stood there, enjoying the quiet of the night. Erafen, for her part, felt weary and exhausted deep in her bones.

"Hawke is going to kill me," he told her, sighing in resignation. "Probably include some torture that involves stringing me by my toes over some lyrium or something magical and dangerous to dwarves."

"You did the right thing. I think maybe she might even come to appreciate this," Erafen countered. "I know Fenris does."

"I don't get paid enough to be a romantic advisor," Varric continued. "My own love life is enough of a shambles. You remember Bianca."

"I do," 'Fen said. "And nothing is ever easy, especially when the heart is concerned."

"True enough," the dwarf agreed. "I suppose it depends on how hard you want to fight for it. Sometimes the decisions get made for you, or it gets taken out of your hands some other way. Makes for great tragedy or great frustration."

Erafen said nothing at first, thinking over how she almost lost Solas to his own stubborn streak and fears for her and his task. She still didn't know what it was he was doing, but out of respect, she didn't pry. In a private moment, he'd told her that it was one of those things he'd feel better about her not knowing, reducing her as a target should things go sour.

"There are always things that are taken out of our hands," she finally said. "It's just a matter of how badly we want to take them back or what we do with them."

"You know, Lily, I have to hand it to you," Varric said. "When I first met you, you were this shy thing, a little wallflower watching the others dance. Once given an opening, you learned the steps and now the rest of us have to keep up with you."

Erafen looked down at her friend, fixing him with a curious look. "I'm just me."

The two turned around to head back into the castle. Varric shook his head, reaching to pat the elf on her arm gently.

"Maybe you don't see it, but the rest of us do. I'm not going to say you did everything perfectly or were always the most morally upstanding person to grace Thedas, but you did right by us all," he told her. "Perfect characters make for boring stories, you know."

Erafen laughed, shaking her head as well. "Well, thank you, Master Tethras, for reminding me." Her smile was genuine, however, and she stopped, opting to give the shorter man a tight hug.

He was surprised, but let his arms slide around the elf, taking the comfort and gratitude she offered. "Any time, Lily."

"I hope I'm not interrupting a 'moment'," Solas said from the doorway nearby, and when Erafen looked up, he had rather warm expression, one she rarely saw when they weren't alone together.

"Not at all, Chuckles," Varric said. "I was just telling Lily here how much she's grown. She's like the mama wolf with a pack of ill-tempered cubs."

"That she has," came the reply, "and a very interesting metaphor." Solas extended a hand to Erafen, which she went to take. "A far cry from the questioning Dalish drinking with Qunari mercenaries I first spoke to."

"You both make it sound like I was some hopeless cause," 'Fen laughed, looking back to grin at Varric.

The dwarf grinned in return, but he made quiet note of how Solas watched her, the edge of something raw in the elf's eyes. Varric covered his own concern with a broad smile of his own and a wink. "Well, you weren't or else you wouldn't be where you are now. Anyone would be blind not to see it."

"I believe even the blind may see it. They just might need pointing in the right direction," Solas said, letting his expression relax when Erafen looked back to him. He glanced from his lady to the shorter man, nodding almost imperceptibly, the masked warning accepted.

"Well, if you two will excuse me, I believe our resident Qunari wanted to win back some of his coin," Varric said, and he waved to the two, wandering off, but once out of earshot, he released a long sigh.

"Not all happy endings stay that way," he murmured to himself. "Good luck."

"Are you well, my heart?" Solas asked, leading Erafen into the rotunda to sit. "You seem a bit pale."

"Since we came back, since our talk? Maybe I'm feeling a little emotional. I feel like I came close to losing you," she admitted, leaning back. "And there's been so much to do. Sylana has helped with the elven parents and their children gathered here, but I feel I need to get them settled soon. I'm really tired, even if I'm really no busier than usual."

"I am still here," Solas pointed out. "Perhaps you should rest tomorrow."

"Mmm, maybe," Erafen allowed. "Maybe I'm coming down with something, though to be honest, I haven't felt sick since, well, you started helping me in the Fade."

"It could be something in the Fade affecting you," he reasoned. "It is decided: tomorrow, you shall rest."

"Ugh, no, then Miry will panic and it will be chaos!" Erafen tried to sit up, but Solas reached for her, pulling her to his lap.

"You will rest. Humor me." He kissed her forehead.

"Very well," Erafen said. "You win... this time. There better be stories involved."

"As many as you like, my heart," Solas told her, and leaned his head to rest against hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I the only one who thinks the Tevene curse, "Venhedis" sounds very much like the elven "Fenedhis"? According to my tutor in all things Elvhen language (see fenxshiral.tumblr.com), "Fen'edhis" means "Wolf Dick". 
> 
> It makes things entirely hilarious when Erafen curses. =P 
> 
> Also, there's been some family drama and health concerns pop up. I'm a little slow on the last two chapters, but if all goes well, I should still manage to post one chapter each night. You guys keep me going, especially with the really hard news I've had today. <3


	40. Sule'din

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corypheus won't wait forever.

As days grew, Erafen found herself more and more tired by the end of the day, though she always made sure to enjoy 'alone time' with Solas. Her dreams in the Fade were more chaotic, her control a little more tenuous, but still, she worked at the lessons she'd learned over the past year and some months.

One morning, she awoke to find Solas looking her over, eyes dark and concerned.

"What's wrong?" Erafen asked, eyes blinking as she pulled herself back to the waking world.

"Nothing at all is wrong," he told her softly. "At least, that I can tell with you. I'm only concerned about your fatigue."

"I'm just working harder, that's all," she told him, easing herself up. "Come on, tell me. There's more."

"Stirrings in the Fade. I know you have seen the chaos there. Our enemy prepares to strike," Solas said, his tone certain and frighteningly serious.

"Is that what I've been feeling?" 'Fen wondered. "This is something we should bring to the others."

"I agree," Solas said, helping Erafen up. He paused, however, leaning in to give her a very thorough kiss, holding her close to him as if it might be the last chance. "Perhaps that should make up for the terrible morning greeting, _vhen'an_. I should be a better help to you."

" _Ma melava halani_ ," she whispered, smiling warmly.

" _Sathem lasa halani_." Solas moved in for another kiss, and then moved aside so the two could prepare for their day.

Oddly enough, while still tired, her fatigue was no where near where it was, feeling like she was being fed a small trickle of energy. Perhaps Solas understood how overworked she was in these final days and thought to lend her his strength? Either way, Erafen was grateful. She made her rounds in record time, though there'd been on reoccuring theme among her fellow mages, one confirmed when she visited Vivienne.

"My dear, you do wander the Fade dangerously," the First Enchanter began. "But you do see more, things that may give us warning. Even on my path, these past few nights, it has been harder and harder to find my way, the stirrings and whisperings of demons growing far bolder than they ever were."

"Corypheus intends to strike soon, then," Erafen decided.

"Darling, I've no doubt of that. All we can do is be ready," Vivienne agreed. "I will speak with the other mages of our group on your behalf. Do go speak with Miryam and the War Council. We will be ready to move."

"Thank you," 'Fen told the other woman. She nodded respectfully. Perhaps she and Vivienne had never really understood each other, but the respect forged between them was definitely strong.

Erafen went on her next rounds, gathering Cullen, Leliana, Morrigan, and Josephine before she went to walk with Miryam to the War Room. Thankfully, the group was already on their way to assemble.

"I felt it in the Fade, too," Miryam confirmed. "All of us have, and it's frighteningly strong. Such apprehension. Your connection to the Fade is so strong now; perhaps that's why you've felt so worn out? That or I am truly asking far too much of you, which you have time and again refuted."

"I think it's the Fade," Erafen said. “I mean, that really is the only explanation I can think of. I’m not the only mage to have felt this. Didn’t you say you did as well?”

“True,” Miry said, letting out a sigh. “I’m just concerned about what we can do. Cullen just ordered troops to leave the Arbor Wilds, and they won’t be available for a week or so yet. We can’t just re-deploy them if Corypheus makes his move.”

“We’re in a bind,” ‘Fen agreed. “Let’s see if Cullen has anything for us.”

Once in the War Room, the group began discussing just that. Where could they reduce troops? How quickly could they have an invading force? There were no immediate answers, and the air of desperation could be felt by all.

“At least we have a way to fight the dragon and kill it,” Miryam pointed out, nodding to Morrigan. “The Well of Sorrows has indeed provided the source of power we needed.”

“I promised that I would serve, especially in light of _certain_ revelations.” Morrigan seemed oddly distracted for just a moment, fixing Erafen with a curious look. She turned her attention back to the map as though nothing happened. “I can indeed combat the dragon, hopefully kill it so that Corypheus will die once and for all.”

“My scouts have been scouring the land, but there is no sign of where Corypheus might be headquartered,” Leliana said apologetically. “I don’t see how someone like him could hide, except did you not say that he seemed to emerge from mists at his appearances when _not_ tearing his way from Grey Warden bodies?”

“He did,” Miryam confirmed. “It could be possible that he hides in seemingly innocuous Grey Wardens waiting for a chance to emerge, or may even be inside other Blighted creatures, maybe even his dragon.”

“I fear, based on what you and Erafen have said, that we will be attacked soon,” Cullen said.

As if on cue, Miryam felt pain shoot from her hand, and the Anchor flared to life. ‘Fen found her eyes torn from it to the window behind the other advisors.

“The Breach is open!” she cried out. Indeed, the sickly emerald hole spiraled open, flares shooting across the sky.

“Then we must close it,” Miryam managed through the pain, holding her hand close to her chest.

“I do not have the troops to send with you,” Cullen lamented, his worry for Miryam perfectly visible. “You would have to go with only those we have here.

“We _must_ go,” Miry insisted, eyes meeting the Commander’s across the table. “I will take the best and brightest; those who have served the closest with me, as you said. I must ask you and Leliana to gather who you can as some sort of backup, but remain here yourselves.”

“This is it,” Erafen muttered. “If we don’t do this now, then I fear it doesn’t get done.”

“Perceptive,” Morrigan said drily. “There must be some sort of plan, then.”

“Two parties, one under my lead, the other under Erafen’s, and Morrigan, you will, of course, face the dragon. If only we had an idea of what to expect,” Miryam said.

“In this, we truly have no way of knowing,” Leliana said. “And we must leave soon if we are to be successful. I would suggest having the mages follow after, see if there is any way they can control energies as before.”

“We leave immediately. Erafen, please gather the others while we wrap up?” Miryam requested.

“Of course,” the elf replied, and she went out to do just that, soon a horn sounding to call Skyhold to readiness.

Once the others were alerted, she went to change into her armor, taking a moment to gather one thing she’d set aside for this day. Her stomach lurched when she considered what could happen that day, that they could still come so far only to fail at their task. With shaking hands, she buckled the silverite armor pieces in place, fitting leather where it could protect her, and finally bringing her hood to hang at her back. A last inspection told her that the staff she favored was in good condition and would serve her for the battle.

“ _Vhen’an_ ,” she heard from the doorway, and turning around, Erafen saw Solas there, his watchful eyes proud and no small amount concerned.

“We’re ready for this,” ‘Fen told him, shouldering her staff. “Aren’t we?”

He only nodded, walking forward to bring his forehead against hers. “We prepared for this day. I only never expected that it would be _this_ day.”

“ _Ar lath_ ,” Erafen told him softly.

“ _Ar lath ma_ ,” he returned, resignation in his eyes.

A desperate kiss, a moment of holding the other, words of resolve whispered — this was all they had time for before the horn sounded again, and they walked out and down to the main entrance and onto the stone platform leading to the courtyard, standing ready to return to Haven with the Inquisition.

“People of Skyhold, valued members of the Inquisition,” Miryam called out, looking over the gathered people with her Inner Circle gathered behind her, “We travel now to put an end to the threat that hovers over all Thedas. Today, we seal the Breach for good and send its architect for judgement at the Maker’s feet. We will allow this no longer!”

A roar of support echoed from the gathered crowd, some shouting out Miryam’s name, others just whooping. The sound lowered when Miryam raised her hands again.

“We will return to you victorious tonight. We will put an end to this. My life is dedicated to this cause,” she continued. “My life is dedicated to the people of Thedas. We are your Inquisition. Now… we march to our destiny!”

The people parted, allowing Miryam to lead the group down to where their various mounts waited for them. Once the group was saddled and ready, they set off, following the path that had since been created to lead to Haven, marked with memorials of their long walk to find Skyhold.

They rode with a vengeance, determination fueling purpose, urgency even understood by their mounts. One break for a meal was all they allowed, using restoratives to make it the rest of the way. The fighting, they realized, would be immediate.

When they arrived at Haven, they were greeted by the memorial set up to honor those who died in the first attack, but there was no time to even look at it. Ahead, the place where the Temple of Sacred Ashes lay in ruins instead was marked by the stone rising into the air, a warped memory of how the temple stood before.

“Rest while you can,” Miryam told the others, tying her horse. “A few moments, and we walk to the Temple. We end this before the sky falls. I feel… I feel the Breach and its architect. I will approach with Cassandra, Varric, and Solas. It is not lost on me that these were the first people I met. Erafen, my trusted friend, you take the others, follow behind us, and provide support if we are attacked by anything else that might pour from the Breach.”

“It will be done, _falon_ ,” Erafen said immediately.

“Morrigan, do you need anything?” Miry asked.

“I require only a moment to change. I will not fail in my task,” the witch affirmed.

Erafen released the breath she didn’t realize she was holding, allowing for just a moment to worry about the outcome. She’d asked for the future, but in truth, there was no way to know what that would mean. There were no guarantees.

A hand pressed to her back, gently rubbing, and then lowered to grip her hand. Solas took a moment to look her face over as if committing it to memory.

“Solas. Take this,” she told him. From a pouch, she took a thick cord of braided copper, tied at each end.

“ _Mar dhula_  ?” he wondered. "I thought I saw a shorter braid."

“A favor from your lady,” Erafen said with a shaky laugh.

“It will _never_ leave my person,” he said, taking it from her. He kissed it once and affixed it to his own wrist.

“Come back to me,” she told him, voice shaking and hoarse.

Solas said nothing, but he leaned in to kiss her once, gentle and lingering, and with that, he released Erafen’s hand to join the Inquisitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations (again, see here: http://fenxshiral.tumblr.com/tagged/project+elvhen ):
> 
> Ma melava halani. - You have helped me.  
> Sathem lasa halani. - Pleased to help.  
> Mar dhula? - Your hair?


	41. Halam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doom upon all the world.

Erafen swallowed her fear, using it instead to harden her heart to a cutting edge, using it to protect the people she loved the most. Her dearest love, her closest friend, people who’d become family to her, all walking ahead of them on the path towards the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Next to her, Sera marched along, humming nervously under her breath, eyes darting around. To her other side was Dorian, maintaining a warm brotherly presence, even bumping an elbow against Erafen’s so he could get her attention and send a reassuring smile her way. Iron Bull walked just behind them, his steps crunching in the snow and providing a solid presence.

The Inquisition may be made of many people of many backgrounds, 'Fen thought, but it was a cohesive whole. Even if they didn't always get along or agree, at least everyone would save the other, would watch their backs. Erafen let out a small prayer under her breath; if anyone was listening, if anyone could lend them strength, she asked for it, but moreover, she asked that each of the people she came to care for would grant strength to the whole.

As they approached, a violently sick feeling passed over Erafen, and she felt almost like she would throw up then and there. She steeled herself, taking deep breaths, and ahead, she saw fear made flesh. Enveloped in a sickeningly red glow stood Corypheus, before him Inquisition forces dying or stumbling to stand against the massive darkspawn.

"Where is your Maker now?" the magister demanded. "Call him! Call down his wrath upon me!" He spread his arm wide, the other positioned under the hovering Orb, scarlet and orange crackling around it. "You cannot, for he does not exist."

"I am Corypheus. I will liberate you from this lie in which you linger. Bow down before your new god and be spared." He extended his hands overhead.

Defiantly, the troops still able to stand did so, drawing swords and bow, determined to approach rather than bow or be seen cowed before the misshapen mockery of a man before them.

"Never!" one brave soul cried out, blade before him.

"As you wish." The darkpawn sent out a wave of the red magic from the lyrium within him, knocking the soliders back, and more demons scurried out from behind him, attacking with clawed limbs, ripping the flesh of those still living.

It was the end of this that Erafen saw, though the voice, deep and resonant, could be heard all the way down the path. She joined the battle, casting to provide cover for the central attack force, prepared to follow after them.

"It ends!" Miryam called out, staff raised.

"I knew you would come," Corypheus said, bowing low, mockingly towards her. He raised his hands, and with the motion, the ground shook, lifing from the mountainside.

Erafen rushed up, the others with her, barely making it in time to the area. Some even fell off behind her; she was sure Cadash and Harding were among them, but she couldn't check, not with this enemy before her.

"We will see now which of us is worthy of godhood," Corypheus concluded.

"You will fail," Miryam said.

Corypheus glared at her, and then smirked. From behind him, his dragon roared, climbing over the archway, but before it could attack, another violet dragon emerged, ramming into it, clawing and biting and knocking it off of the raised ground.

You.. _dare_ ," Corypheus spat. Another hand raised, and demons surged out of the ground, screaming and gurgling in their twisted fury.

"Miryam, go!" 'Fen cried out. "End him! We'll cover you!" Staff raised, she reached into the Fade, drawing glowing black and green rock, and she slammed it into the nearest rage demon. "GO!"

The Inquisitor wasted no time, calling her core attack group with her. Cassandra, Varric, and Solas went forward, none looking back as their foe taunted them.

The cleared the path as they fought, sending demons and dawkspawn to their ends. It took the entire group working in concert; this was many more demons than any had faced at any given time. Around them, the screams of fighting dragons sounded, defiant and fierce. Erafen could hear the battle ahead of them, feel each cry of pain from those who fought Corypheus, and likewise feel their determination with their own counterattacks. Erafen did not see any others of the Inquisition's forces. Clearly this was a fight for the Inner Circle.

"Forward!" 'Fen cried out once the last demom dissolved into a sickly festering ball of goop. "Vivienne! Bull!"

"On point, darling," Vivienne called out, and Iron Bull quite literally lowered his head and charged forward, the Knight-Enchanter close behind. The blew out the last few demons in the group's way, following the path of Miryam's group. The sounds of battle echoed ahead, still frightening in its intensity, but there was nothing but an empty courtyard waiting, broken statues of Andraste looking as if praying for the dead.

A defiant scream tore the skies, the violet dragon Morrigan had become fell from the sky at an alarming rate, and Erafen called out to her, feeling useless. The next instant, and the Archdemon, the bony grey dragon landed before the gathered combatants, its cry a challenge.

"We must destroy that appalling _thing_ ," Dorian said. "Is that not the way to ensure Corypheus dies?"

"So we kill the fucker!" Sera called out, her fear diminished in her determination and adrenalin.

"It's horrible!" Cole called out. "I don't like it."

"None of us do," Erafen muttered. "Cole, distraction. Be swift. Bull, do what you do, but stay away from its jaws. Sera, arrows to the eye. Vivienne, Dorian, stay at a distance. Blackwall, the tail. GO!" She produced her staff, waiting until the melee fighters were closer, and she cast, the ground under the great beast spewing a rush of the Fade's raw power.

"Darling, when we have defeated this thing, you will tell me how you managed that," Vivienne said, actually breathless with exertion.

"If we live," Erafen said, and continued her barrage, stopping to dodge the powerful breath of the dragon.

It took them all in a coordinated effort, the Archdemon more than anything any of them had ever fought before, even actual living dragons. There were no more jokes, no more banter; the group worked in concert to wear the creature down. Cole danced between its legs, slicing at limbs until finally he worked through and sliced a tendon, bringing the back weight of the dragon down hard, its voice shrieking with rage and pain. Blackwall, in that moment, managed to sever an artery in the tail, Bull's axe ripping through a nostril, and one of Sera's arrows finally landing dead center of a pain-widened eyeball.

Erafen saw her opportunity, rushing foward. With little warning, she ran, jumping on Bull's back and leaping off, blade end of her staff downward to stab into the dragon's neck. It connected, and she cast, fire blazing within the creature, then lightening to paralyze it. Her feet landed on the neck, holding onto the staff for support. With all of her strength, she twisted it and ripped it out, falling back on her back, a splash of blood darkening the ground in front of her.

"Mini-Boss, what the hell was that?" Iron Bull demanded, scooping her up. "Vivienne!"

A restorative was put to 'Fen's mouth, forced down her throat, and already she felt its warmth spreading. "No time," she huffed. "Miry... Solas."

"Sweetling, our way is blocked," Dorian told her.

"Flare. Send..." Erafen choked, pushing against where Iron Bull held her. "Let them know!!"

Dorian nodded, and he held his staff up, sending three quick bolts of lighting traveling skyward, the violet-blue of it standing in stark contrast to the death-grey and crimson around them. Vivienne likewise sent bolts of ice afterwards, and then she stopped where she was, hearing the voice of the ancient magister call out.

"DUMAT. ANCIENT ONES, I BEESEECH YOU!" His voice was desperate, and Erafen ceased her struggling, finally allowed to stand on her feet. They all faced that way, listening in both fear and hope. Above, they saw a crackling ball of energy rise towards the Breach like a comet, the hole closing in on itself. Another flash of green, and the ground they were on started falling, towers crumbling around them. Erafen took the moment to run forward, ignoring the cries behind her.

An opening appeared, the rubble blocking the stairway fell off, and she darted past where Cassandra and Varric lay, each looking as if they were coming to. She paused at the archway, seeing the green wisps of a closed rift, the blood on the ground, and the cracked Orb. Erafen could make no sound, only watching wordlessly as she saw Solas walk across to kneel beside the broken pieces.

"' _Ma lath_ ," she whispered, feeling her heart ache for him, for his loss.

"Solas?" Miryam asked, standing up to approach.

His voice was low, soft, and filled with sorrow. "The Orb."

"I know you wanted it saved. I'm so sorry," Miry said.

"It's not... your fault," Solas replied. He set the largest of the broken pieces back down, turning to look at the Inquisitor, almost avoiding looking at Erafen where she was watching.

"There's more, isn't there?" Miryam asked.

"It was not supposed to happen this way," Solas insisted. He looked down at the pieces again. "No matter what happens, you will always have my respect."

"Inquisitor!" Cassandra's voice rang out. "Are you all right? Are you alive?"

Miryam frowned sharply, and she approached the archway, resting a hand on Erafen's shoulder. The friends paused, foreheads touching in gratitude and relief, and the human woman continued on, heading to speak with those gathered below.

Erafen did not join her. She went to stand beside Solas, looking over the broken Orb.

"You're going to go now," she said, voice heavy.

"I must," he confirmed. "I must find another way to put things right."

Erafen lowered her head, eyes closing, but in the next instant, she found herself held close, letting her arms wrap around the one she'd come to respect as a teacher and later to love as partner and spouse.

"You will always be my heart," he said into her hair. "I will not make the mistake I tried to make before."

"You know where to find me," she told him. "There is no distance in the Fade, not really."

He let out a warm breath, moving back enough to kiss her properly. "And no distance between souls that share breath."

"Do what you must," Erafen said, heedless of the tears streaming down her face. "And come back. I... can't go with you?"

"You have _our_ future," Solas told her, standing back to look at his love's face, committing it to memory. His hand pressed flat on her chest, sliding down to rest over her abdomen. "Ours, and that of our people."

Erafen swallowed haird. "I... how long did you know?"

Solas let out another sigh. "Soon after our Union. It had to have been sometime before that when you conceived. I expected you would know on your own before too long."

"So I will stay, and you will go," she told him, putting forward a brave smile. "I will do my part to uplift the elves."

"This is _not_ goodbye." He kissed her again, and time seemed to stand still, nothing else around them. When he pulled away finally, he whispered her name. "Erafen, _'ma vhen'an_."

"Fen'harel," she replied. " _Vhenan'ara. Dareth shiral_."

Solas pressed one more kiss to her lips, and then, with obvious effort, he moved past her to walk away towards the empty archway.

Erafen found she couldn't turn to watch him leave, and instead, she knelt by the broken Orb, looking it over as if it were the only thing in the world. She picked up its pieces, pressing them into place is if it would stick, and finally turned, holding the fragments close to her.

Solas was gone, the archway empty, but beyond it was her family. When Miryam extended a hand her way, Erafen reached to take it, holding it tightly and then allowing the human to pull her into a tired but tight hug.

"We're going home," Miryam said. "To Skyhold."

"Home," Erafen agreed, and she didn't look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me. I really didn't see another way for this to go, BUT, as Solas said, it's not goodbye. Two more to go after this, an ending chapter and an epilogue, then, after a small break, a new story featuring Erafen on her own. I do have some drabbles in the works, a few things expanding scenes our 'Fen wasn't involved in.
> 
> You all are amazing!! Thanks for the comments and encouragement! 
> 
> Also, in sad news, Leonard Nimoy passed away this morning. RIP to my childhood hero.
> 
> PS: Also, I was looking at the bookmarks finally, and LOL to aurla0's comment: "solas u lying little bitch u are gonna get fucking caught". I think I needed that today.


	42. Arla'vhen'an

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victorious, they return home. Alone, she weeps.

When the group returned to Skyhold, there was much adulation and shouts of amazed celebration. Miryam found herself immediately drawn into Cullen's arms, pulled into a kiss that hard more than a few people whooping in their favor. Erafen watched quietly, happy for her friend, but her mind was busy, a mess of jumbled emotions and thoughts. She held her hand over her core, thinking of what Solas told her, and she felt tears threatening again. Rather than make a public spectacle of herself and mar her friend's moment, she went off on her own, going to bathe and change.

Once bathed, Erafen dried herself off, going to sit on her bed to dress. She paused, her nose picking up something familiar. Instead, she turned into the sheets, inhaling the smell of elfroot and old books, things she associated with Solas, and finally let herself cry. Her tears were for the lonely nights she saw ahead, not just for her, but for him as well. She cried for his loss, wept for the things he lost over the centuries, sobbed for the ache of his absence. Relief and joy still permeated her anguish; he would return, she was positive, and they were still united in the ways that counted. They still had the Fade, and...

Erafen sat up, looking down at herself curiously. "Of course," she told herself. It explained the sickness and fatigue, the craziness of her dreams in the Fade. She asked for the future, and there, within, she nurtured it. Even if he'd agreed to her going with him on his quest, she would have to refuse.

"Always the sly one, my Wolf," she said, but it was without bitterness. “A perfect escape, even if unintentional.”

She finally pulled herself up, dressing in something comfortable and still presentable for the celebrations she could already hear going on outside. Entering the Great Hall, she found herself immediately surrounded by people, hearing accolades in her direction.

"You slayed an Archdemon! They say you made this possible!" she heard Flissa call out.

“It wasn't _really_ an Archdemon,” ‘Fen heard Dorian start to correct the barmaid.

Erafen forced a smile to her face for those around, taking the hand-shaking and hugs that came her way. She finally found herself scooped up by the Iron Bull, taking her above and beyond the celebrants to sit at the main table with the others. He plopped her down on Miryam's right hand, Cullen at the Inquisitor's left.

"My darling, where is your spouse?" Vivienne wondered, actual concern on her face.

"He... he left," Erafen said, feeling the tears threaten. "But he has something important he must do. I'm still needed here. Not just that, but I have another responsibility.”

The First Enchanter made a "hmm' sound, nodding. "Sometimes duty and circumstance separates us from those we most love. Surely my darling Bastien and I understood this. One does not need constant presence to be committed. Did he at least do you the courtesy of a goodbye?”

“He said that it wasn't goodbye,” Erafen said.

“One thing I respect about your Solas, my dear, is that when he says something, he is brutal in its honesty and leaves plenty to question. He is as adept in games of the mind as I,” Vivienne told the elf. “He may have played the others, darling, but I do not believe that he played you.”

‘Fen fell silent. “Thank you, Vivienne… _falon_.”

For once, the smile that graced the First Enchanter’s face was genuine, but only briefly. Madame de Fer was back in force immediately. “Now, my darling, please do go keep an eye out and make sure that Iron Bull and Dorian are not making spectacles of themselves, and see to it dear Miryam has time to herself after this ordeal. She needn’t stay the entire time.”

“Of course,” Erafen said, and with a nod, watching as the First Enchanter gracefully stood to head over to a comfortable seat near some of the nobles.

“Dorian decided to stick around for a bit,” the loud Qunari announced, grinning again when the Tevinter mage actually smacked the muscled arm.

“Tell the Town Crier already, you loud oaf,” Dorian said, rolling his eyes, though there was no hiding the pleased expression. He sobered, however, at seeing Erafen looking alone, putting things together. He moved around behind her to wrap warm arms around her shoulders. “Come now, sweetling, and have some wine.”

“Only a little, please,” ‘Fen told him. Dorian moved off to bring her a glass, and she sipped it carefully instead of her usual healthy swallows.

“Solas left you with a little present, did he?” Bull asked as if he were asking about the weather.

“ _Ben-Hassrath_ ,” Erafen muttered. “Yes. He did, and I’m not at all unhappy.” Her chin tilted up.

“Then congratulations are in order, Mini-boss.” For all of his lack of tact, Iron Bull did seem to know when not to press on certain topics.

“Little elven babies, how delightful!” Dorian exclaimed, clapping his hands together as he returned to his seat. ‘Fen couldn't tell if he was being dramatic or truly was excited until he opened his mouth again. “I understand they smell of woodland flowers and glow under the moonlight.”

“Oh shut it, you!” Erafen said, laughing despite herself.

“What?” Sera jumped in. “I KNEW you’d be poppin’ one out! So tell me, you’re namin’ her ‘Sera’, right?”

“It _could_ be a boy, you realize,” Erafen said, giving up any chance of keeping it to herself given everyone else was talking about it.

“Name _him_ Sera then,” the younger elf teased.

“You wish,” ‘Fen told her. “And you lot hush; Miry was to be the first I told, so now I owe my dearest friend here quite the apology.”

“Miry knows, or at least, she guessed,” the Inquisitor said from her side, referring to herself in the third person, and then she draped an arm over Erafen’s shoulders. “The sickness? Fatigue? Not the first mother-to-be I’ve seen. That and Bull told me. I might have been a bit clueless with all of this chaos going on.”

Erafen sighed dramatically. “Well, there goes my great secret. Thank you, all. I’m glad everyone knew before I did.”

“Taking down an wannabe Archdemon dragon on foot with a staff while pregnant. That’s one for the history books,” Iron Bull said. “You’re going to rival the stories about Cassandra.”

“Well, please don’t make a big to-do out of this,” Erafen entreated. “This is Miry’s day.”

“This is for all of us,” Miryam insisted. “Do not diminish your part, dear friend. We are here because of what we did together.”

The elf just smiled, nodding once, and finished the last few sips of her wine. With the faces of those she most cared about around her, all of them smiling and happy, she was able to forget her own woes for a bit. While the others conversed, she looked around, noting the courtly flirtation between Blackwall and Josephine, the good-natured bickering of Cadash and Scout Harding, the dancing of drunken commoners and nobles alike between the tables, Cassandra and Leliana with their heads together, approaching Vivienne with an expression of inquiry.

“By the by,” Miryam said. “They announced the next Divine while we were busy saving the world. Leliana will be crowned Divine Victoria.”

“I’m pleased she and Cassandra seem to not have any hard feelings towards each other,” Erafen said. “They work well together. I have high hopes for Victoria’s reign.”

“To be honest, Cassandra looks relieved,” Dorian pointed out. “I don’t think she could have gotten away with just shield-bashing obstinate clerics who sass at her.”

“A Divine who has a network of spies at her direct disposal, though,” Bull said. “We’ll see how it turns out. I don’t doubt how effective she’ll be.”

“Well, I need to make the rounds of the nobles here before I call it a night, so please excuse me,” Miryam said. She stopped to squeeze Erafen’s shoulder and left Cullen with a brief kiss. “Behave. For now.”

“I am always well-behaved,” Cullen protested, laughing. “Except when you don’t want me to be.”

The group continued sharing stories and celebrating a bit longer, though Sera eventually lost interest for the sake of pulling pranks on some of the gathered nobility. Erafen kept an eye on her from where she was, but her contributions to the storytelling slacked off. She was simply running out of energy.

“Milady, a moment?” Leliana stood next to the elf, a hand on her shoulder.

“Of course,” ‘Fen said, standing, and she followed the Spymaster off towards, of all places, the rotunda. Once inside, they stopped at the chair Solas favored, and Erafen found herself staring at the lines of a mural only just sketched, one of a wolf standing victorious over a dragon. She felt tears threaten again, but she swallowed hard, knowing this time leaving her behind was true necessity.

“I have my people looking for Solas, but so far, they've turned up nothing. I suppose if he does not want to be found, he won’t be,” Leliana began.

“He won’t be found,” Erafen insisted. “He has... things to do.”

“And you know nothing of what these things are?” the redhead asked, eyebrow raised.

‘Fen fixed the human with a flat stare. “You know I won’t betray him, even if I knew what it was he intends to do.”

“I know. I had to ask. Be sure, though, that your loyalty is not misplaced," Leliana said, giving the elf a gentle smile. "I remember love like that. But what I wanted to tell you is what I learned while I had my people looking for Solas. I do not like loose ends; I had them locate the village he said he was from. All they found was a ruin, an ancient one at that. I fear he has deceived us from the start."

"All things I am certain Miryam will want to know once the celebrations have died down," Erafen said.

"Are you not concerned?" the spymaster inquired.

"No," Erafen said, smiling as if she knew a secret (which, of course, she did). "You're a good friend, Leliana. You'll be an amazing Divine. I look forward to alliances with the Chantry under your rule, as long as my people are still free to live as they wish."

Leliana nodded slowly. "Elves will not be forced into conversion, nor will Qunari or Dwarves, but _all_  people of Thedas will be welcome by the Chantry. Charity will be the focus."

"I'm pleased to hear it," Erafen said. "And don't think I'm being evasive, please. It's just the things I know need to remain close to me. Not a lack of trust in you, but a respect for the trust placed in me."

Leliana smiled again, understanding clear in her eyes. "You would be a good spymaster."

Erafen opened her mouth to reply, but she froze, taking note of something on the desk among the books and papers Solas left. She frowned, concern sharp enough that Leliana asked her what was wrong. 'Fen didn't reply, but went to reach on the stack of papers, pulling up a an item on a black leather cord.

It was a pendant, a powerful focus, but not the wolf's jaw Solas favored, but an amulet of onyx and obsidian, both Fade-touched. The shape was carved into the shape of a wolf's skull, top down. The work on it was intricate, the knotwork clean and clearly elven in style, neatly carved and assembled with a skillful hand and touched with something Erafen recognized to be the same primal essence she inherited from Solas.

"He left this for me," she said aloud, immediately reaching up to tie the leather around her neck.

"Allow me," Leliana offered, and she took the ends, tying the ends while Erafen held up her braids. Once secure, the amulet came to rest just above the elf's cleavage, at the top of her sternum. Erafen let her hand rest over it, smiling to herself.

"You want me safe and unhurt, and I appreciate that. We should always want that for those we care for," she told Leliana. "But not always can we be protected. At least we can know we're loved."

Without waiting for a reply, she stood tall, releasing the amulet to rest near her heart, and she turned to walk back into the Great Hall, the future waiting ahead. She was beloved and precious to the one she loved the most. That was enough for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for being with me on this journey and for your wonderful comments and feedback. There's an epilogue waiting; hopefully it will prepare everything for the next story I intend on telling. I've created a series category for Erafen's tale, too, which I hope you'll all check out as well. 
> 
> This is my inspiration for Erafen's pendant:  
> https://www.etsy.com/listing/74690568/wolf-skull-necklace-with-tribal-design?ref=market


	43. Fen'enaste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weddings, gifts, and reunions? A harbinger of things to come?

Three months passed, and the Inquisition was still strong, still influential, and still the largest power in Thedas. Even Tevinter started sending formal envoys to seek the favor of the "Southern Barbarians", understanding it was a figure from their past that was to blame for the Breach and scores of demons across Thedas. Trading in the North was already suffering, but thanks to the efforts of a newly appointed Liaison to Tevinter, one Dorian of House Pavus, relations were improving.

By Imperial Decree, the holdings of human nobles in the Dales were now forfeit, which really was only limited to a few estates in the Emerald Graves. Erafen quickly took advantage of having such open land to build on, and summoning historians and architects, she began the planning of a town and keep, deciding to keep the name " _Halam'abelas_ ", Sorrow's End. Elves of both City and Dalish origin volunteered their time and strength, making sure the items crafted, the homes designed, the very heart of each structure, was elven in origin. What's more, she would include a small Chantry for the Andrastians of her people and an area of shrines within a library dedicated to elven history and faith. Marquise Briala, taking her cue from Erafen, began a similar holding in the Exalted Plains. Ancient holy places to the elves were restored all over the Dales, including Din'an Hanin, the burial site of the Emerald Knights.

Erafen herself was clearly starting to show her pregnancy, now favoring looser tunics that allowed more comfort and ease of movement. Sylana quickly became her right hand in matters concerning the Dalish, and another elf, a fellow named Lysas who had been among the Rebel Mages under Grand Enchanter Fiona, became her liaison in dealing with the City Elves. The two elves seemed to work well together, and 'Fen knew she could trust them as her duties as First to the Inquisition still kept her busy. Sera even had a part; the Red Jenny group did well as eyes and ears among the common folks.

Grand Enchanter Fiona received formal permission from the newly crowned Divine Victoria to create a College of Enchanters to promote the safe study of magic. Her Right Hand, Cassandra, oversaw the reformation of the Templar and Seeker orders, now charged with justice and peacekeeping. Her left, First Enchanter Vivienne, maintained political and social relations while offering inspections of the colleges that rose for magical studies.

That particular day, however, no one was really thinking about any of that. Divine Victoria returned to Skyhold, though she did so without fanfare and walked around without her formal robes most of the time except when she stood before the Inquisition's throne, looking out at all of those gathered before her.

Erafen walked ahead, down the center aisle, dressed formally, beautifully, and simply in a robe that was made of sheer silks of red and violet, gauze sleeves covering her arms, and the pendant of the wolf at her neck. She took her place to the right, standing opposite of Cassandra. All fell silent when Cullen approached, kneeling before the Divine, who blessed him. He was dressed in the formal armor of the Inquisition, its soldiers now an official order with its own ranks of Templars and skilled warriors.

Miryam approached next, veiled as was Ferelden custom, her gown more of a battle-dress, armored with a split skirt, all in colors of red and gold. She also knelt before the Divine, receiving her blessing, and she stood, presenting her right hand to meet Cullen's, wrist over wrist. As the ceremony began and Leliana began her benediction, Erafen and Cassandra approached, using a loose braided cord to tie the two wrists together loosely.

"These hands are tied, but not so tight they cut off the blood, and not so loose it is easy to withdraw," the Divine said, holding both of her hands over the pair's wrists. "In this, they have freedom to move, freeom to act, but are ever close to the other. In this, they are as Andraste in her divine union with the Maker. In this, they are so united. May the bond never break."

Cullen and Miryam faced each other, the two reciting vows recited in the days when Andraste was merely an upstart barbarian woman. Erafen found herself fighting off tears again, knowing full well the bravery and vulnerability involved in such words. Watching her dearest friend join with the honorable man she'd fallen for was among the happiest moments the elf could count in her lifetime. She did finally let the tears fall when Divine Victoria pronounced them united before Andraste and the Maker, blinking them away as her friends sealed it with a kiss.

After being presented to the witnesses, Miryam and Cullen made an immediate escape to what was now their chambers at Skyhold to follow in the age-old tradition of consummating their marriage. Erafen and Cassandra stood guard at the door for the required mark of time.

"Quite the beautiful ceremony," Erafen observed.

"I have never seen its like," Cassandra affirmed. "Far better than any royal wedding, more heartfelt than any I've witnessed in Nevarra. I have only once ever seen so close and committed a relationship before." The Seeker fixed the elf with a significant look.

"Even though... even though he left?" 'Fen asked.

"I see your commitment. I would hope distance would not diminish his." Cassandra let out a sigh, straightening up. "We have half a candle-mark left, then if they get interrupted, it is their fault for too much foreplay." She cracked a grin.

Erafen actually giggled at that. "Is there such a thing?"

"Not if you ask Varric. He tends to write some very stirring imagery," the Seeker replied.

"Naughty naughty, our dwarven storyteller." Erafen smiled again, leaning back against the door. Though she wasn't so large yet, with her slight frame, holding the weight of her child and the fluid it rested in was already becoming difficult.

The women continued to chat during their duty, and once the ceremonial candle marking the time burned down, they headed in their own directions to enjoy the festivities. Erafen made sure everyone was seen to, taking note that a few of the couples gathered sequestered themselves to celebrate in other ways.

A soft hand landed on Erafen's shoulder after a short time, and the elf turned to see Morrigan there, dressed no longer in finery for the wedding, but in her daily travel clothes.

"A moment of your time, please," the witch said, and Erafen nodded. Morrigan led her around and towards the courtyard, though they did not approach the gazebo the human favored. Instead, they headed into the room set aside for the _eluvian_.

"I am leaving soon. It is too large to bring with me for traveling on my own, so I sought to entrust it to you and the Inquisitor," Morrigan said. "I gave neither of you reason to trust me, yet you did. I will share this _eluvian_ and its pathways with you." She raised her hand, focusing the magic, and Erafen felt something akin to permission from the large arcane mirror.

"This is still yours, Morrigan. We only borrow it," Erafen insisted. "But thank you."

"Of course, and I appreciate the sentiment. I repaired this one at great personal cost. I feel you may yet do the same for another, and so I have left you copies of my notes, of my own studies," Morrigan told her.

"Why not leave me to flounder on my own?" 'Fen wondered, no sarcasm in her voice, but honest curiosity.

"You said, ' _Mythal enaste_ '," Morrigan told her, "Even though you do not see her as a goddess, you understood her power. I heard the stirrings of her voice, of the knowledge gathered in her name. I have seen the face she now wears. The Dalish know her as _Asha'belannar_. Humans and others know her as Flemeth. I knew her as... Mother." With that, she related what happened when she and Miryam returned to the Arbor Wilds so call to Mythal and a bit more about the strained relationship mother and daughter had.

"No wonder you said you wish I had taken the offer to drink," Erafen said, feeling a pang of sympathy for the human.

"At this point? I do not regret it, not now, and not with Corypheus defeated," Morrigan said. "I still hear those voices of knowledge, but not long ago, Mythal's presence fell oddly silent. The voices tell me that you may yet discover why before I do."

Erafen wanted to protest, but given the things she now knew, she felt it wiser to be silent on the matter. Instead, she reached out a hand to Morrigan's shoulder. "If I find anything to tell you, I will."

Morrigan nodded, a faint smile in place. "It is odd, but the voices say you have been touched by the Dread Wolf in some way, though they do not say how. Perhaps you, too, may be led towards a destiny that involves the ancient gods."

"Perhaps," 'Fen simply said, attempting to look innocent under the witch's scrutiny. "More than a few of the elves here at Skyhold have said I walk in Fen-Harel's shadow, but they do not fear me, not like they might have before.” Her fingers went to the wolf skull pendant at her chest. "Having several of us confirm what happened at Mythal's temple seems to make the story stick, that perhaps the Dread Wolf is not the boogeyman of our childhoods."

"Very curious, that," Morrigan said. "I recall you reading that book in the wagon on our way there, saying that the Dread Wolf was a god of rebellion, not the trickster laughing as the elves fell. There is evidence now; I do not feel it wrong of you to encourage the sentiment the elves have risen. The title certainly inspires both fear and respect. I am sure you are no more the Hand of Fen'Harel than Lady Miryam is truly the Herald of Andraste, but others need not know that."

Erafen merely smiled and shrugged, her expression amused and enigmatic, but in no way did she encourage or discourage Morrigan's words. Her experiences with the Inquisition helped her understand just how powerful reputations and myth could be, and she was no longer the naïve Dalish girl spying on things she didn't understand. "I've learned a lot about secrets and the power they hold."

"Truly your Solas was good at that, as well as being a bit of an arse," Morrigan said, somewhat teasingly.

"I think all of us could be a bit of an arse. We just don't like when someone calls us on it," 'Fen told the other woman with a significant stare.

"Point taken," the witch said. She paused, bells sounding outside of the room. "And you should return. The Newlyweds will be leaving on their honeymoon soon, and I wish to depart ahead of them. T'is a shame; I will miss Skyhold."

Erafen nodded, and she extended a hand to the human, who took it firmly in her own. "Be well, Lady Morrigan."

"And you and your child as well, Lady Lavellan," Morrigan replied. She turned to the _eluvian_ , and with her hands raised, it came to life. She walked towards it, and without looking back, vanished through it, its opalescent glow swallowing her.

Erafen looked thoughtfully at it, wondering how much Morrigan truly suspected about Fen'Harel and exactly the relationship she had with him, but in the end, she hadn't confirmed anything or said a word to stir suspicion. The witch hopefully did not realize just how close she was to the truth. Touching the smooth inert surface, she thought hard that if the magic within it would listen to her, perhaps it could offer a way for her beloved to visit. Of course, that was wishful thinking, and she turned to head back to the festivities and her last duty to Miryam before the Inquisitor and her husband left for a well-earned vacation.

She went back to the door leading to the couple's bedroom, knocking loudly, and then she let herself in. They were both on the landing, and Miryam opened her arms wide for her dearest friend to come hug her. The women held each other tightly.

"Thank you for being at my side," Miryam told the elf.

"Always, _falon_ ," Erafen replied, and when Miry released her, she gave Cullen a hug, too. "And don't wear her out too much."

"I'll, er... I can't promise anything," Cullen laughed, returning the gesture, though a bit nervously.

Erafen stepped back, looking them both over. "Well, you've got luggage and necessities packed. Just go on out there, let them shower you in petals, and go have a grand time." She turned to head back out, announcing the married couple's departure.

As predicted, the pair were showered with the petals of almost every flowering plant in Thedas, leaving a rainbow path for the pair to cross to the carriage waiting for them. Miryam waved at the others, and then let Cullen help her in. The two were off, and Erafen stood at the top of the steps to the Courtyard, watching until the carriage was down past the steep descending path away from Skyhold.

As the sun started to descend, Erafen found herself feeling the exhaustion and fatigue of the day, and she excused herself from the festivities, heading to the balcony so she could go to her room. The little one was seemed to swim and fidget inside of her, and she paused, a hand over her belly and a whispered word to hopefully lower any anxiety it might feel from her.

“He knows you,” Cole said from behind her. "Your son is safe. He doesn't know happy or sad or any names for these things, but he knows what ‘mother’ is, even if he has no words for it.”

"Cole, don't sneak up on me like that," Erafen said, though she grinned broadly at the spirit-man. "I saw you flitting around earlier."

"Some people were jealous. Some were sad, but only with happy memories. I helped them," Cole said. "But you... vibrant vibrating vivacious, and you remembered his hands, his mouth, how they moved on you when you exchanged those vows in private. His skin tasted like the Fade and the ancient waters you... I wasn't meant to say that out loud, was I?"

"Cole, _elgar'falon_ , you're all right. I was thinking of Solas, yes," 'Fen told him. "How could I not?"

"He told you, 'this is not goodbye', but he left, leaving the future with you," Cole said, and then, rather suddenly, he looked up and then past Erafen, gasping. He seemed confused, and then smiled. "What was I saying? I should go find Sera." He vanished that instant.

Curious, Erafen looked around, wondering where he might have gone, but then she shrugged. Cole had a habit of vanishing like that, but she'd never known him to lose track of what he was doing when cheering someone. Banishing her worry in favor of going to her blessedly quiet room, she continued on her way.

When she made it to the balcony, she noticed something was off. The door to her room was ajar, and she was always careful to leave it closed. The only time she purposefully left it ajar was to let Solas know she was there, or he would do the same. Of course, he was gone, off on his quest, and no one said a thing to her if they'd seen him. Leliana, no, Divine Victoria's people were still on the lookout.

Cautiously, Erafen pressed the door open, magic on her fingertips. She prepared to cast if someone was there to attack her.

"I missed you, too, _vhen'an_."

Erafen banished the spell immediately, running forward into the waiting arms of her beloved. " _'Ma Fen_!" She could have wept then and there, and perhaps, there in the dark, held by the one she most loved, she did. Even through her manic mix of emotions, she could feel something from within him, something stronger than she remembered, but it didn't matter.

"So big already?" He kissed her hair, holding her close, but finally released her so he could look her over, coming to kneel before her, hands over her swollen middle.

"That's what babies do, you know. They grow," Erafen told him through her tears. She merely rested her hands on his shoulders, letting him feel the life within her. A few moments more, and he stood, taking in the sight of her.

Erafen took the moment to look Solas over. No longer did he seem the wanderer, but wore soft black leathers, fur around the collar of his coat the mottled shades of a black wolf. She rather liked him like this, she thought, his real name coming to her mind. "Fen'Harel, truly," she managed.

"And in the Fade, the whispers are there, the Bride of the Wolf, even though none of us have let my secret be known," he added.

"I promised," Erafen said. She frowned, however. "You're not staying."

"No, only this night," Solas told her, reaching again to bring his beloved close. "I still have much to do, but tonight, I came to give you something." He moved away enough to begin undressing his lady, a low laugh when she raised her hands to assist him with his own leathers. “ _Verem ma ame laim_.”

" _Emas em_ ," Erafen insisted, letting her gown slide off.

He brought her to him, guiding her to the bed to join with her again after so long apart.

"Do you accept what I would give you?" he asked against her lips. "A blessing from me to you?"

"Always," Erafen replied, and her mouth opened to receive the breath he had to give. She felt him exhale, and she breathed deeply, eyes closed. It wasn't like before; this had far more of a maternal feel to it, a feminine touch, and before she had time to sort out what was familiar about it, Fen'Harel immediately moved to distract her with his kiss, his touch, the motion of his body, and the feel of his aura.

" _Vhen'an_ ," he breathed against her neck, and he bit down, just enough to leave a mark, and he again gifted her, the feeling of power surging once more with her own climax. She called his name, his true name, into his shoulder.

Erafen fell into the Fade, again walking its paths at the side of her beloved, sharing with him the plans she had for Halam'abelas and the elves joining her there. He told her of searching for places of power, shrines to the elven gods, and open pathways. For once, talk of the past, of the lost history of the elves was not a factor, only the future they worked to build for their people.

Across the room, under a protected crystal cover, the Orb rested, held together in a series of clamps and lyrium. As the couple slept, a crackle of green spread across it and faded, unnoticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, the actual end here! Erafen's story isn't over, however. I've started working on the next story already, though I intend on taking a bit of a break. I also wrote a story of the events in the cave in Crestwood from one Dread Wolf's POV. I hope to keep you all with me on the next journey!
> 
> Thank you all again for the kind comments and discussion. I LOVE chatting with you guys, so keep it coming! 
> 
> So actual notes:
> 
> I figured it'd be more a custom in Ferelden to do a handfasting, a real ceremony from pagan cultures (and older times).
> 
> Translations (again thanks to fenxshiral):
> 
> Halam'abelas - End of Sorrow  
> Mythal enaste - Mythal's Blessing  
> Asha'belannar - woman of many years  
> Elgar'falon - spirit friend  
> Verem ma ame laim. - Deprived of you, I am lost.  
> Emas em. - You have me.
> 
> If any of you want to get a hold of me outside of AO3, send me a line on my tumblrs: fenenaste.tumblr.com and my main one at kuroutsubasa.tumblr.com !


	44. Thank you!

This is just a note to those following this story:

 

You can find the continuation here: [Sorrow's End](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3455627/chapters/7581590).

 

Thank you all for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> I am borrowing Elvhen language from both Bioware, of course, and a few tremendous resources. 
> 
> The first and most ambitious source of data is at http://fenxshiral.tumblr.com/tagged/project+elvhen. I am amazed at the linguistic skill and thought going into making the Elvhen tongue one that can be used in true writing and roleplaying. 
> 
> The next sources are as follows, and I thank all contributors greatly.  
> http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Elven_language  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/359253/chapters/582281


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